


Lost and Found

by a_dusky_gold



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adoption, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically all the tropes, Beta Jo Harvelle, Bottom Dean, Businessman Castiel, CEO Castiel, Dad!Dean, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Heat Sex, Implied Mpreg, Imprinting (but NOT Twilight style), Internalized Misogyny, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kid Fic, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mechanic Dean, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Nudity isn't a big deal, Omega Dean, Omega Krissy, Platonic Cuddling, Possible Post Partum Depression, Rimming, Shifters, Stillbirth, Top Castiel, Triggers, Wacky Were Culture/Science, cheesy as hell, chosen family, dad!Cas, dadstiel, harlequin romance, shifting, slight dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 14:35:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12278547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_dusky_gold/pseuds/a_dusky_gold
Summary: Omega were Dean Winchester gave birth to a stillborn - his pup died in his belly in the accident barely three weeks before she was due to arrive. He spends the next seven years mourning Emma Mary, unaware that a new life is right around the corner.Were alpha Castiel Shurley never expected to receive two gifts back to back - his late mother’s business empire as well as an abandoned pup who has no were to offer her a comforting touch. The only thing he knows about her is the name her omega dad’s left with the foster home where he finds her - Emma Mary.Fate has a funny way of giving you what you want, even if you don’t realize it at first.A Harlequin-esque romance with an A/B/O were twist.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, a DCBB that was supposed to be 20k and grew into a 50k... why, brain, why?! Huge thanks to the mods for organizing this and making so much fun.  
> BIG thank you to my artist, [Subtextiel](https://twitter.com/subtextiel?lang=en), who's made such GORGEOUS pieces! Check out his [Tumblr](https://feathergrave.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/subtextiel?lang=en) AREN'T THEY GORGEOUS, OMG, I HAVEN'T STOPPED FANGIRLING SINCE I SAW THEM, OMG, OMG, ASDFGHJKL! 
> 
> Thanks as always to my betas, Baya-the-dragon (who totally approved the smut, lol), my little cabbage and my little caramel. You guys are awesome, thanks for sitting wimme as I cried and whined about how bad my writing is. My usual cheerleaders, Ru-Dog, Aej and Dede - thanks bitches. 
> 
> Please check the trigger warnings; there's a little angst in the fic, but if you read my stuff, you know I end up angsting around a lot, so be careful my loves! But this is meant to be domestic fluff and family feels at the end, so if I've missed any tags you think should be up there, lemme know and I'll add them right away!
> 
> EDIT/UPDATE - I've tagged as angst with happy ending, since my definition of angst is warped AF, but if you still think there need to be more tags, lemme know! :)

**Chapter 1**

_Dear Castiel,_

_If you are reading this, then I am either dying or dead. I apologize for how callous that must sound to you, but I have little patience for anything less than honesty. Since I was the one who asked Charlie to show this to you in the event of my death, I am no doubt gone. Which leaves the question of my entire estate and my fortune._

_You must think me the most heartless person you've met. Not only did I abandon you and your father, but here I am, speaking of my fortunes even after my death. Even now... I cannot tell you how much you mean to me, my son._

_I have always loved you. You probably don't believe me, and I would not blame you - I left you with Chuck when you were barely two years old. You had just made your first Shift and you were probably the most adorable little pup around, too many limbs and too blue eyes that have haunted me since then. You must understand; I was not ready to be a mother, much less a mother of a were. I'd seen Chuck's Shift, spent countless ruts with him, but still... that I'd given birth to a were..._

_It terrified me, that first Shift of yours. Worse... you smelt my fear._

_You whined and then growled and refused to let me touch you. And in that moment I knew - I was not the mother you deserved._

_So I left, even when Chuck tried to convince me that were pups need their parents, to touch and to scent and to feel, at that age especially when they were learning to navigate the difference between sensations as human and as were. I left, Castiel, not because I didn't love you, but because I knew I couldn't be the mother you deserved._

_Hate me if you wish - I certainly do. I threw myself into my work, I rebuilt my father's business empire and I grew old. And all these years, I've kept an eye on you from a distance - I was there at your high school graduation, at your college graduation, and now, I know you're going to be graduating business school very soon. This may not mean much, not after all these years, but Castiel... I am proud of you. I see your talent and your business acumen, and I know - you're my son._

_Which is why I bequeath everything to you. All the paperwork has been drawn up, and I have named you primary beneficiary in my will, along with a sum for Chuck, and a sum for Charlie, who has been my crutch in these last few years. If you do not want to take over the position of CEO, you needn't feel pressured to do so. But I've seen your ability, and I would like to do this much for you. Most mothers and fathers put their kids through college - I could not advise you through figuring out your passion, but I can offer you an easy step into the world of business._

_I hope you will accept this last gift from me. I understand if you continue to hate me - I've accepted it as my burden to bear. But Castiel, I want you to know... I do love you. Despite all appearances, I do not regret being_

_Your Mother,_

_Naomi_

The words on the page blur, and it takes Castiel a moment to realize that the hot wetness pricking at his eyes are tears. He reaches out angrily, wiping them away, hands shaking even as the letter falls out of his grip, drifting to the floor harmlessly.

"Castiel," the redhead in front of him says softly. He breathes in deeply, swallowing hard before turning to her.

"What the hell is this?" he whispers, voice hoarse with tears. "Why would- she's-"

Charlie shrugs, sighing. Reaching out, she gently pats his shoulder and bends down to pick up the paper. When she straightens up and leans in again, the scent of her - of charcoal and firewood - fills his nostrils. It's a  muted scent, since she's not a were, but it's still strangely comforting.

"She's left everything to you," Charlie repeats what he read in Naomi's letter. "And Chuck. You need to decide if you wanna take over Novak Industries, but even if you don't, there's a sizeable trust fund comin' your way."

"You think I give a shit about the _money_ ?" he asks harshly. "She's... she's _right_ there," he points to the bed just in the corner of the hospital room they're standing in, where Naomi lies still, prone and lifeless.

No - not lifeless. She's still alive.

His mother is still _alive_ \- she _can't_ be gone, not when he hasn't even spoken to her in decades. Not when he’s still so very angry, not when he’s not had the chance to yell at her or tell her how much it hurts that she just _left_.  

“She’s _alive_ ,” he repeats numbly. “I can't even think about… she’s…”

His ears, keener than that of any human’s, are filled with the sounds of her breaths still, louder than the whirring and the ticking of the machines that keep her alive. The scent of her - of crisp paper and pen that he can recall from his childhood, despite the many years since - lingers within the room, even through the distinct stench of Lysol and hospital.

She can't leave _again._

“She’s brain dead, Castiel,” Charlie says. Her voice is gentle but firm and he flinches at the sound of it, refusing to look at her. “She has a DNR written up for this case.”

She’s too kind to say it, but Castiel realizes what she means - Naomi’s made arrangements. He has no say, even if he is her son. The doctors are legally bound to pull her off of life support.

She’s going to leave again, after all. And he’s just as helpless as the first time.

“Then why wait?” he demands, suddenly angry. “Why didn't you just pull the plug? Why _call_ me?”

He was just fine before that phone call that interrupted his studying for his finals. He was stressed, sure, but a single call from Dad had been enough to settle his nerves. Chuck isn't the most forceful of alphas, but age old instinct is hard to beat - the sound of the alpha who held him through the first few years of his life is enough to calm him most days. And he _was_ calm… until Charlie’s call.

And now, he has to call Chuck again and _tell_ him - tell him that the mate who left him, who abandoned them both, now lies in the hospital, brain dead.

“I thought you should get the chance to say goodbye,” Charlie answers.

A bitter taste wells up on his tongue and his throat tightens. He stumbles back, and falls into the chair behind him, right opposite to where Naomi’s prone form lies on the hospital bed and he breathes in deeply, trying to calm the pounding in his head.

“And…” he hesitates, “If I don’t take up the CEO position?” he looks up at Charlie, who is watching him. Her features are arranged into an expression of guarded sympathy - clearly, she isn't just Naomi’s employee.

“Um…” she shrugs awkwardly. “It goes to me?”

“You?” his eyes narrow at her, “And who exactly _are_ you?”

“Naomi took me in a couple years ago,” she replies. “When I was down on my luck.”

“Why?” if there’s a bite to his tone, he blames it on the way his inner wolf snarls. Naomi is _his_ mother, and yet, this girl seems to know her better than Castiel himself ever did.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Charlie says sharply, “But I fucked up big time, got into trouble with the feds. Naomi stepped in, saved my ass and set me up with a job at her company.”

Silence falls between them, and Castiel looks away, flushed at her rebuke. She’s right - it _isn’t_ his business.

Except it very well could be. Naomi _wants_ it to be.

Charlie sighs a moment later, reaching out to pat his shoulder again.

“Look,” she clears her throat, “Honestly? I don't fancy being CEO. I’m a code monkey and a caffeine junkie, so gimme a computer and a cubicle and I’m set. But I promised Naomi that I wouldn't let her company fall into the hands of some stranger, so it’s either you or me.”

“I don't… I can’t…” Castiel flounders, unable to answer.

“Cas,” Charlie murmurs. “She loves - _loved_ you. She didn't know how to show it, and she’s definitely not Mother-of-the-Year but… she loved you.”

There’s a wistfulness to her voice that squeezes his heart.

“And,” he hesitates, “You know I’m a…?” he trails off, unable to finish.

_Not ready to be the mother of a were…_ Naomi’s voice echoes in his ears and his cheeks burn. She left - _left_ \- because she couldn't handle a wolf-child. She left after _his_ first Shift; she couldn't stand to be around _him_.

How is he supposed to forgive her after that - forgive _himself_ after that?

“You’re a were?” Charlie finishes. “Yup.” She pops the _P_ , and Castiel finds a hysterical laugh bubbling in his throat.

“Though,” she continues, “Naomi kept it pretty quiet that she was mated to a were. Most of the Board know that her son is probably taking over after her, but they have no idea you can transform into a two hundred pound predator at will or that you howl at the moon.”

He snorts against himself at her description and she smiles. He’s well aware that Naomi kept his identity - and that of Dad’s - a secret; he remembers being a sullen, angry teenager, coming home to see Mom on the TV and demanding why Dad didn’t once protest the fact that the media assumed she was single. He remembers Chuck telling him that it was complicated, remembers Shifting and then bounding away into the woods behind their home, the freedom of his fur far more satisfying that his alpha’s soft but firm explanations.

Even then, the human part of him wondered if his mom hated him. His wolf just wanted to rip into something.

“Charlie… I… I can’t… I need time…” Castiel mumbles. “I have to…”

Charlie’s expression softens and she pulls back, offering him a nod. “Of course,” she murmurs. “I’ll…” she gestures vaguely to the door and Castiel blinks, barely registering it as she steps back.

“How long do I have?” he asks in a low whisper just before she opens the door. Charlie pauses and then turns to him, looking tired, and he wonders with a start how much _she_ stands to lose at this moment.

_Was Naomi close to her?_

“To becomes CEO?” she says, “A couple weeks.”

“And… with her?” he jerks his head towards his mother shakily.

“I can talk to the doctors,” she murmurs, “Give you a day.”

“Can I…” his voice breaks, but he forces himself to finish, “Can I get a bit more? Dad… I mean, Chuck… weres need to…”

Chuck would want to say goodbye, he knows. His alpha would feel the need to touch Naomi, to try to scent her one last time before howling his grief to the moon, as Charlie so aptly put it.

The redhead hesitates and then sighs, nodding. “I’ll see what I can do,” she says, and then swings the door open, striding out purposefully.

“Thank you,” Castiel whispers into the emptiness she leaves behind. Looking over at Naomi's still form again, he finally lets himself go, sinking to the cold, hard floor even as sobs tighten his chest, lungs shrinking and vision darkening. Blindly, he yanks his phone out of his pocket and hits speed dial one, waiting for his dad to answer.

He has no idea what to say, but he needs to tell Chuck. So he waits, feeling the hot tears slide down his cheeks without restraint.

_She’s gone,_ he thinks, watching the light rise and fall of her chest, even as the dial tone echoes in his ears. _She’s gone._

*-*-*

A tall man stands in front of the NICU, a dark frown on his face as he peers through the glass casing that covered one of the infants in particular. Grunting softly, he reaches out to palm the greying stubble on his face and sighs quietly, his heart heavy.

John Winchester is not a man given to much emotional introspection, but right now, standing in front of the pup that is his granddaughter, he pauses. From the corner of his eye, he sees the name tag, the letter small but clear and strong.

_Emma Mary Winchester._

This pup is _Dean’s_ \- she’s _his_ granddaughter.

Born three weeks prematurely, she is smaller than John remembers either Sam or Dean being. And yet, there is a sense of strength about her - her voice was loud and angry when the doctors pulled her out of his eldest son, careful to not touch her skin directly. He wonders how that feels; barely a day old, and still, not even the warmth of a human touch to soothe her through it.

Were physiology can be extremely confusing and frightening to humans. He knows that from experience.

But even being a human didn’t stop Dean from imprinting on him that first, breathtaking moment he held his son. He wonders whimsically if that’s the reason why Dean never disobeys him, if he follows his every order even John knows he doesn’t agree with them. Mary was the one to hold Sam first, to have him imprint on her. Is that why his youngest sees fit to butt heads every goddamned instance they can?

Or maybe they’re just too similar. Sam’s always had the single-minded, almost destructive drive to follow a goal through to its end, like him.

Then again, Sam wouldn't even consider doing what he is about to right now - the almost blind devotion Dean shows _him_ , Sam directs towards his elder brother instead. The last thing Sam would consider doing is separating Dean from his daughter, especially when they’re both in such a precarious condition at the moment.

Touch and familial bonds for weres have been scientifically proven to help recover from injuries and major health conditions. And still, he wants to take this pup away from Dean.

What choice does he have?

_Being a human dad to a were is hard,_ he thinks. Because Dean is both were and human - he belongs to different cultures. For a human, being a single parent isn’t a very big deal. Sure, there are the conservative dicks who insist that a child needs both parents, but for the most part, no one would blink an eye at a single dad raisin’ a little girl by himself.

For a were, though… that’s a different can of worms altogether.

Legend says that shifters moved out of the forest to the become part of the human civilization, their pack dynamics still in effect even after they settled in the cities and towns. Crossbreeding has been happening for centuries and most weres have mingled successfully, and yet, there remains a distinct culture that many humans find hard to completely accept or comprehend.

Were are very dependant on touch, and unlike humans, nudity isn’t a big deal to them. You couldn't make your clothes shift with you when you went wolf after all. Families are often huge and communal, and independence, while encouraged, are often subsumed by family duty. Of course, there are no longer packs, but family is at the forefront of every decision made.

John still remembers the scandal Mary caused when she chose to leave with him - not only was she moving out of the ancestral home, she was doing it with a _human_ , who was neither alpha nor omega, and she was causing shame to the whole family. Mary herself was an omega, but she hadn’t given a shit about the gender politics of the shifters, turning her back on the whole system.

And now, Dean’s bearing the brunt of that decision.

He knows - _knows_ \- that he’s a shit dad. Losing Mary pretty much destroyed him, turned his life upside down. For a few years, he had the most beautiful family in the world, even if there were times when he felt like the outsider looking on the three weres. And then, in an instant, it was all gone, the flames eating away at both Mary’s body and their dreams.

_Well, fuck._

He should be a goddamned poet.

A single, unmated omega in his early twenties… Dean made one stupid mistake, and now, all his prospects are fucked to hell. John’s _told_ him - he’s spent years trying to hammer into Dean’s head that he needs to _behave_ , that he needs to stop being so boisterous. It isn’t that John is a sexist. He knows Sam’s no different than Dean simply because he’s an alpha. But there are somethings that _can't_ be changed, and the fact is that Dean _is_ an omega, and being an omega comes with certain difficulties.

He’s not sexist. But he _is_ a realist.

And the reality is that an unmated single omega were is going to face a whole lot of discrimination, especially when he has no alpha, either mate or sire - John’s a human male, and that doesn’t hold as much weight with the were community as it does a proper alpha mate.

He has no name to give this beautiful little pup.

_Emma Mary Winchester._

His eyes are drawn again to the label, and he swallows hard - _Jesus_ , this is his grandkid. How the hell is he supposed to…

He doesn’t have a choice.

This accident… it was the best goddamned thing to have happened to them. For the past eight months, he’s been trying to get Dean to see sense; he’s even offered to move them to Sacramento where Sam wants to go to school later, where Dean can start a new life with people who have no idea he’s no longer a virgin. But Dean’s as stubborn as he is, and he’s stood his ground firmly.

Now, though… now, he has a chance to fix it.

He’s gotta do what’s right for his kid, even if that means separating him from his own grandchild. For over twenty years, he’s fucked up as a father, left Dean to raise Sam while he drowned himself in the bottle, searching for the numbness that dulled the pain of losing Mary.

Contrary to popular belief, John Winchester is a very self-aware man.

Which is why, he squares his shoulders, strides out of the NICU and yanks his phone out, dialling the number of one of his shadier contacts.

“Yes, cupcake, what can I do for you?”

“Crowley,” he growls, “I’m cashin’ in that favor you owe me.”

*-*-*

It is hours later that Chuck finally arrives.

Castiel has fallen asleep in the uncomfortable, cold chair that sits across Naomi’s bed, exhausted from finals week and then his emotional outburst earlier. Even asleep, it is the scent that hits him as soon as his father enters the room - the ink and old library smell soothes the inner wolf within him, which whines at the presence of its sire.

He doesn’t consciously remember sighing, but Chuck’s hand on his shoulder has him startling awake and he jumps up with a snarl, whirling around instinctively. Chuck blocks his punch easily and raises an errant eyebrow at him.

“It’s just me, kiddo,” he mutters.

Castiel grunts, dropping his arm. His entire body sags with relief, his wolf soaking in his dad’s presence, and he lasts all of a minute before burying his face in Chuck’s stomach, wrapping his arms around the short man. Despite his small frame, Chuck holds him up quite easily, Humming softly and running his hands through Castiel’s dark, messy hair. Touch is important to most weres, and Castiel savors the feeling of Chuck’s rough t-shirt against his cheek.

“Hi Dad,” he mumbles.

For long, quiet moments, they don't say anything, simply taking in each other’s presence. Weres have very close familial bonds - a remnant of the ancient forests they’d left behind millennia ago - but even amongst them, Castiel knows they’re uncommonly close. They’ve had to be, with only each other to depend on.

“How you doin’, Cas?” Chuck finally says when they pull apart. “You haven’t been sleeping,” his tone turns accusatory as he eyes Castiel critically, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the sleep-worn look on his face.

“It’s finals week,” he reminds him in lieu of an answer. “Didn't have much time to sleep.”

Chuck sighs, rolling his eyes. “You’re gonna end up falling asleep over your exam if you don't get some rest,” he chides.

“If I get the chance to finish them,” Castiel mutters quietly and they both fall silent again, turning to face Naomi in unison.

“Cas,” Chuck says softly. “Why don't you go get some coffee?”

He doesn’t say anything else, but the way he clenches his fists tells Castiel what he’s hiding. His scent is agitated and spicy - he wants the chance to say his farewells to his mate privately.

Castiel isn't the only one with unresolved feelings.

So he offers his dad a nod and gets up, stretching. He lets out a satisfied groan at the resounding pop that echoes around the room and Chuck snorts, ruffling his hair affectionately.

Without another word, the younger alpha strides out of the room, resolutely avoiding the form on the bed.

The smell of people assaults him the moment he steps out into the hallway. It's strong, even through the disinfectant odor. A hospital is a place of strong emotions and the pheromones linger unpleasantly long after the people themselves have passed.

But then, he supposes as he makes his way to the cafeteria,  this is a primarily human establishment. Their senses are much weaker than that of a were's, which means that using a PheroCleaner is out of the question. Though it is strange that a hospital wouldn't sanitize completely, even if the humans do outnumber the weres five to one.

Sighing to himself at the jumbled nature of his thoughts, Castiel heads to the counter and waits - a bit impatiently - in line for his coffee. Despite the late hour, there are quite a number of people and it takes him a few minutes before he can ask for the blackest, hottest coffee they have.

The strong, dark smell of it hits him hard and he pays gratefully before grabbing the cup and heading to sit in an isolated corner of the cafeteria. There's a glass window that looks straight into the hallway next to his table, and he settles in, slumping into the chair, watching the passersby.

The mug is hot against his fingers, but he barely notices the sting, absently sipping the strong liquid. His mind is a million miles away, skirting around the thought that right now, his Dad is saying goodbye to his Mom.

Forever.

He doesn't know how to process that, _if_ he can process it at all.

So he focuses on what he _can_ process instead - the position of CEO that Charlie's offered to him. The redhead left a couple of hours before, having left her number with him, promising to return in the morning. She didn't expressly say it out loud, but Castiel got the sense that she would like to be there when they pulled the plug on Naomi.

He winces at the expression; they're literally going to pull the plug. His Mom is going to die. And there's _nothing_ he can do about it.

His wolf howls at the thought, snarling in anger. He breathes in deeply, using the sharp aroma of the coffee and the sting of its heat to keep him grounded.

He can't think that... not right now. The Board membership and position... that's safer territory, that's something he _can_ solve.

Castiel would be lying if he said he wasn't interested. The truth is that he has been dreaming of setting up his own company some day; he'll never admit it, but he knows it's from watching all those interviews of the powerful Naomi Novak that he decided to go to business school in the first place. Fueled half by spite and half by a desperate need to prove himself, he's one of the top students in his year - and he's graduating soon, with quite a few offers in some of the top 1% companies in the market.

_Not bad for a were whose alpha often struggled from paycheck to paycheck,_ he muses.

They hadn't been poor per se, but it took Chuck saving every dollar he could to make sure Castiel would head to college. And Castiel did everything he could to help - he was the first one in over two decades to receive a Milton Industries internship _and_ he's been juggling a job at the campus coffeeshop to pay his own rent.

Being a were, he admits, gives him a slight advantage over his peers - heightened senses that allow him to predict someone’s actions before they make is very helpful in the boardroom. And he doesn't need as much sleep as the average human, which means he can pull allnighters and still be fresh-eyed when he hits the classroom.

But despite those advantages, it hasn't been easy. Being a were is often bad enough in human spaces, being a were from a _working_ class background in a school where the students come and go in BMWs is worse - he knows exactly what most of his classmates think of him and it _isn't_ that he's a cool guy.

So the idea of stepping into a position as powerful as Naomi's... it's appealing. Not to mention, Castiel _knows_ that he's well-suited for it; his _keen business acumen_ , as she put it, could work very well with it.

It's just...

He's dreamed of it, for years - being the CEO of his own company, and then meeting Naomi at a meeting. They'll hash out a business deal, both of them hard negotiators, and then at the end of it, he'll confront her and she'll tell him how sorry she is for leaving him - she'll tell him she's _proud_ of him.

The dream's coming true in a way - she _is_ telling him she's sorry, and that she's proud of him, but she's _leaving_ again, and he doesn't know how to deal with it.

"Sir, you can't do this!"

Castiel looks up, startled out of his thoughts, as the nurse's indignant cry echoes down the hall. Through the glass window, he can see her arguing with a tall, buff man, who is glaring back at her angrily. He's holding a small, green bundle and Castiel blinks - _is that a baby?_

"I can and I will," he growls back at her. "This is _my_ granddaughter and I have every right to take her back with me."

"She was born three weeks early," the nurse protests. "Checking her out AMA-"

"Is _my_ choice," the man cuts in. "I'm takin' her and my boy outta here."

"Sir, your son has just had a major surgery," she sounds utterly exasperated. "And your granddaughter is premature. They both require medical attention."

"Other than basic monitoring, can they recover at home?" the man's voice is demanding, leaving no room for discussion and Castiel frowns.

"They're better off here, where we can-" to her credit, the nurse tries to stand her ground.

"Look lady, my insurance is shitty and I can't afford more time in the hospital. If not for this damned accident, my son woulda given birth at home anyway - can I or can I not care for them at home?"

Castiel sucks in a sharp breath at that.

This man is a _were_ ; he's too far for Castiel to smell him, or he'd have recognized him instantly. But the fact that his _son_ gave birth to that little girl - he must be an omega male.

Human reproduction is pretty straightforward; only shifters have secondary genders, with female alphas also being able to impregnate and male omegas able to carry children to term. Betas, if Castiel remembers his history lessons right, are a result of crossbreeding between humans and weres, their reproduction similar to that of humans, with the females carrying the child to term. The only difference between a beta were and a human is the ability to Shift into a wolf.

Whatever the case, were pregnancies are considered high-risk in general, so it's quite surprising that this man wants to check his kids out against medical advice.

"You can," the nurse finally admits, her back ramrod straight with reluctance. "But we wouldn't advice-"

"What's the legal note on this?" he cuts her off again. "If I check 'em out, you gonna call CPS on me?"

She frowns, bringing her hand up to massage her temples in an irritated manner.

"No," she mutters. "We cannot. Were laws prevent us from interfering with the alpha's decision - but Mr. Cash, your granddaughter is barely a day old and your son is still unconscious. Checking them out AMA now could prove detrimental to their well-being."

"I'll handle that, thanks," the man answers gruffly. "Look, I'm not sayin' you ain't helpin', just that we can't afford it right now. Plus Dean's capable of takin' care of his kid by himself - why d'you think I haven't touched her yet?"

Castiel's eyes are drawn to the way he cradles the green bundle carefully. He sees now that there isn't an inch of skin exposed, other than her face, and the man is careful not to touch her directly.

To a human, it might seem extremely strange that most weres who give birth in hospitals insist on being the first to touch their kids, that the doctors were gloves even to clean them of the blood and afterbirth. But a pup imprints on the first adult who touches it, following them around instinctively until they learn to hold their own.

How many times has Castiel wondered if his need to go into business was because of the way he imprinted on Naomi? How many times has he wondered what was so wrong with him that she chose to leave even after he imprinted on her?

_Imprinting,_ he thinks bitterly, _doesn’t mean good parenthood._

But the imprinting _does_ help stabilize infants, particularly those born prematurely; that much he remembers reading in an article somewhere.

And clearly, the nurse knows this - she steps back with a sigh, shaking her head.

"Alright, Mr. Cash," she tells him. "We will allow you take your son and granddaughter out, but you must complete paperwork first and comply with the medical restrictions the doctor provides."

"As long as Dean and I can be out in the next three hours, sure," the man answers tersely.

"Dean is still _unconscious_ ," she protests, "He can't be-"

"I'm the head of his family," Mr. Cash interrupts. "By law, I’m his alpha till his alpha comes by - that mean _I_ decide what happens to him. Send an ambulance back to our place, and I'll handle the rest."

The nurse looks unhappy but doesn't protest further, seemingly understanding that this man cannot be argued with. She opens her mouth to say something else, but just then, Castiel's phone trings in his pocket, and he looks down, startled.

_Dad._

Swiping across the screen, he holds the phone up to his ear and sips on his coffee - it's gone cold during the time he was following the argument and he sighs.

"Dad?"

"It's time, Cas," Chuck's voice is heavy with regret.

Castiel closes his own eyes and leans back against the cold metallic chair, swallowing hard. He ignores the heavy _thud-thud_ of the man striding across the hallway and the nurse's soft cries of protest as she follows him.

For the space of a single heartbeat, as they pass by the cafeteria, Castiel smells it - a soft, newborn scent. She smells strangely citrusy, like a cold lemonade on a hot day, even through the gritty, oily scent of her grandfather and the lilac perfume of the nurse, and Castiel savors the passing smell, wondering whimsically who she will grow up to be.

Somewhere in another corner of this very hospital, an omega lies unconscious, waiting for his child. They will begin a new life together, presumably with their alpha, and the girl will have two parents to love and raise her.

As Castiel will never have now.

Gasping back the quiet sob that threatens to break out, he sniffles and nods, knowing Chuck can't see him.

"I'm coming, Dad," he whispers.

It feels like the end.

He doesn’t know then that it’s just the beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It feels like a hot zipper is being drawn across his gut. 

Dean’s eyes shoot open, even as he gasps his way into consciousness, his pulse pounding in his head and his hands flying to his abdomen. His entire lower half feels like it’s on fucking fire and he whimpers when his fingers make contact with the thick, rough skin of his belly, naked as he is under the sheets. 

For a moment, he simply focuses on breathing, trying to force air into his too tight lungs. When his vision finally clears, he gingerly caresses his lower half, opening his mouth to instinctively soothe his pup -

He shoots up in bed, yelping at the way his entire body burns at the sudden movement. 

_ His pup - he can’t feel anything.  _

Gritting his teeth, he clenches his eyes shut, trying to recall what happened. The last thing he remembers is…

_ The van!  _

He and Dad were crossing the road to get to their motel so they could drop off their bags and then go surprise Sammy at his stupid internship thing. But the light turned red midway and a truck came swerving at them, and all Dean can remember is throwing himself out of its way, instinctively wrapping his arms around his waist to keep his pup safe. 

And now… 

_ There’s no pup.  _

**_Where is my pup?!_ **

He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. Panic sets in and he struggles to get off the damned bed, his lower half searing in pain, but he doesn’t give a fuck - his  _ pup  _ \-  _ his  _ little girl -  _ his pup - _

“Dean!” 

Sam’s voice is a welcome relief, and Dean reaches out blindly for his brother - his head’s spinning and he can't see anything and he’s clutching at his belly and he knows he’s got tears running down his face, he can feel it,  _ but his little girl, his Emma Mary, his pup -  _

“Dean! What’re you doing?!” 

Familiar, lanky arms hold him up and Dean sags against Sam’s taller frame, stumbling forward. Sam is gentle with him as always, the instinctual alpha need to keep his elder omega brother safe, and for once, Dean doesn’t dispute it, allowing himself to be looked after. 

“Pup,” he whispers hoarsely. “Sam, pup.”

He can't say anymore than that, his throat is too dry and he is too disoriented. The familiar wet mud smell that is Sam fills his nostrils and he breathes in deeply, trying to force himself to relax. 

“Careful, Dean,” Sam arranges him on to the bed, and with a start, Dean realizes that it is his own bed - they’re back home, in Sioux Falls. 

How long has he been out for? 

_ Where the fuck is his kid?  _

“Sam,” he snaps, his voice giving out halfway so it sounds like  _ Sa-! _ He ignores it, and glares at his brother, pressing down on his flaming belly and pursing his lips together. 

“You just had a major surgery, Dean, don't gimme that pissy face!” Sam huffs back. 

“Pup,” he demands, “Sam, my… where… she…” he struggles. 

Sam’s face falls and he looks away. “Dean,” he begins hesitantly, his own voice a low whisper. 

Dean’s blood runs cold and the utter sadness on the sixteen year old’s face - he’s seen that expression only a few times before, and each time, he was telling Sam about their dead mother. 

No. 

_ NO! _

He shoots up again, whimpering when his newly cut up and torn up body protests. He can feel the stitches where the stretch marks used to be, where Emma Mary once kicked him from the inside, and he feels the hot wetness coat his cheeks at the thought that she’s  _ never  _ gonna do that again. 

“What happened?” he demands. 

“Dean, she’s…” 

“ _ Where _ is she, Sam?” he asks painfully, swallowing past the dryness in his throat, ignoring the way his voice breaks and breaks again. 

But he knows the answer even before Sam can give it - he sees it on his brother’s face, feels it in the emptiness of his body. 

“She’s gone, Dean,” Sam murmurs. “I’m so sorry.” 

When he stumbles back into bed blindly, Sam curls around him, trying to smother him in that wet mud warmth that comforted them both when they were just pups. His brother tries to project that sense of safety that came with curling up around one another - but it doesn’t work. 

It  _ can't  _ work anymore. 

Because Dean’s own pup is dead and he’s barren now - Emma Mary Winchester is  _ dead _ , because  _ he  _ was fucking stupid, because he was  _ idiotic  _ enough to walk into midway road traffic and get her  _ killed _ , this close to her birth date. 

He doesn’t even deserve the comfort of the tears that tighten his chest, much less Sam’s nuzzling warmth into his side. 

*-*-*

C-A-S-T-I-E-L S-H-U-R-L-E-Y

Castiel completes his signature with the slight flourish at the end that he always does. It was a practice he began back when he was still a teenager, taken with his dad’s writing and calligraphy hobby; Chuck never could quite become the accomplished writer he wanted to be, but Castiel kept the artistic signature, proud to carry something of his sire. 

He may have gotten his business sense from Naomi, but his love of art comes straight from his alpha and he’s proud of it. 

Sighing, he drops the pen and massages his eyes with his palms, throat burning. She’s  _ gone _ , and it strikes him at the strangest of moments, that he will never have the chance now, to know her, to share their favorite books or to find out if she loves poetry as much as he does. 

“Cas?” 

Charlie’s voice breaks through his self-imposed miserable reverie and he starts back in his chair, dark hair falling on his face as his head whips around to look at her. She’s standing at the door, her features arranged into an expression of sympathy on her face. 

“Hello Charlie,” he greets stiffly. 

She jerks her head towards the table where the papers lie, and raises one crimson eyebrow in question. 

“I’m accepting it,” he tells her abruptly. He thinks he sees a fleeting expression of relief on her face before she schools her expression into one of careful sympathy again and he rolls his eyes, standing up. 

“You know there’s more to it than just signing a couple pieces of paper?” she says. “You’re going to be taking over one of the biggest tech conglomerates in America, it’s-”

“Charlie,” he cuts in. “I graduate business school in a couple of months. I know how this works.”

She shoots him a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” she shrugs, “Just… It’s Naomi’s legacy and I’m..” 

“Protecting it,” he finished shrewdly. Her expression closes down, going comically neutral, and he shoots her a small smile. “I understand,” he tells her softly. 

Naomi may have been his mother, but clearly she’s much closer to this redhead that she ever was to him. And fuck, it does hurt, it  _ does _ , but it’s not Charlie’s fault. She’s helped Naomi build this business empire, no wonder she wants to ensure it remains safe. 

“So…” he looks up, pushing the paperwork to her gently. “What now?” 

Hazel eyes soften at him. 

“Now,” she murmurs, “We attend her funeral. After you graduate, you’re gonna have a meeting with the Board. They’re eager to meet you.” 

Castiel pushes the chair back and gets to his feet, jerking his head towards the door and striding out. She follows, thumbing through the paperwork. 

“What are they like?” he asks curiously. 

Charlie snorts in response. “Exactly as you’d expect. Old, balding, fat bastards who worry about how deep their pockets can get. Naomi kept them in check, though, so not too bad, far as the company’s day-to-day goes.” 

Castiel hums in agreement, walking into their rented suite’s kitchenette, heading straight for the coffee-machine. When Charlie found out they were staying at a smaller motel close to the hospital, she’d insisted on moving them into a much bigger hotel, as befitting of Naomi Novak’s son, even if he wasn’t going to take the Board membership. 

And now, he’s Castiel Shurley, CEO of Novak Industries. 

It’s mind-boggling. Just yesterday, he was a grad student with a couple hundred dollars to his name, with the promise of a high-paying job if he graduates with honors. Today, he’s got more money than he knows what to do with, simply by virtue of being someone’s son. 

But the money comes from her  _ death _ , and he doesn’t know how to process that. 

So he swallows and pours himself some coffee, savoring the bitter, hot taste of it as it goes down his throat. 

The funeral is tomorrow. 

They’re going to bury her in the ground and he’s going to lose any last chance he had of ever having a relationship with her. 

_ Lord _ , but he wants to wear his fur and leave it all behind. His wolf is itching for a run, to just escape for a few minutes, to howl its misery to the skies. But he can't afford to, not right now, not with the Board membership looming.

"What can I expect?" he asks finally. 

Charlie's frown deepens. "They're not gonna take kindly to - in their opinion - what a kid says. They don't even know you, so they're gonna be watchin' your every move." 

He slurps a bit of his coffee and she makes a face at him. "And the employees?" 

"You won't be interacting much with them," she shrugs. "Only the upper management. Zachariah, you gotta watch out for. And Bartholomew, too. But otherwise, you're good on that front." 

He blinks - he has a lot to catch up with, he knows. "Who're they?" 

"Zachariah Adler," she mutters, flopping her hand about dismissively, "Head of Marketing and Sales. Bartholomew, Accounting. They graduated from Harvard as well School of International Dickishness and Douchebaggery." 

Against himself, a snort escapes Castiel, and he sets his mug down to study her. 

"And you?" he finds himself asking. 

Because no matter how much he likes her, he can't trust her, not completely. If there's one thing he's learnt from Naomi, it's that you don't give your trust away easily - they have to  _ earn  _ it. 

And clearly, Charlie knows it; her eyes become guarded and her expression remains cautiously neutral. 

"Me what?" she returns casually. 

"What post do you hold? Other than poking your nose into my paperwork, of course," he teases gently. 

She flushes. "I'm... uh..." she waves her hand about awkwardly. "I was Naomi's executive assistant." 

He blinks. "What?" 

"You know, I made copies, brought her coffee, listened to her when she needed to vent, did her dry cleaning-" 

"You're telling me that you  _ don't  _ hold an official position within the company?" his voice is sharp and bitter and she flinches in response. 

"Not really," she mutters. "But Naomi trusted me." 

She meets his gaze squarely despite the way her thumbs are nervously twiddling together. There's a strange vulnerability to her expression, as though she's expecting him to turn her out now that Naomi is gone, even though she has as much right as him to his mother's company. 

"I mean..." she continues, "I own shares and I make enough money off of them to live comfortably, but I don't really..." she shrugs. 

And Castiel is struck by the loyalty she shows; Naomi left the entire transition process in her care. If she wanted, she could've easily told the Board that he rejected the proffered CEO position, taken it for herself - they would've believed her as an insider without question. 

Instead, she sought him out, called him and held him through those horrid moments of waiting for Chuck in front of his mother's brain-dead-but-alive body. She stands to lose everything, and yet, here she is, patiently coaching him through what he needs to be ready for. 

No wonder Naomi valued her so highly. 

His wolf is trotting around happily - it can sense it, a bond with this girl, who seems barely younger than him, whose loyalty is strong and powerful. She's a human, but he feels a strange kinship with her. 

Maybe it's because his wolf knows she's one of his mother's. Maybe it's because of her warm smile and her open expression. 

Whatever the reason, he drowns the last of his coffee and turns to her with a raised eyebrow, offering her a wink. 

"Well then, Miss Bradbury," he says, "Would you like to continue being the CEO's executive assistant?" 

She blinks, staring at him for a long, quiet moment and then a slow smile spreads across her face. 

"Only if you accept the post of being my friend," she snarks. "And accompany me to an old haunt today. You've been languishing in here too long." 

He grins and nods. "It'd be nice to have a friend when I face down old, balding white dudes," he teases as she gets to her feet. "And I don't languish, I  _ brood _ . As is befitting of an alpha." 

Charlie snorts. Before he can say anything else, she reaches out to grab his arm and twines herself around him. Instinctively, he wraps his own arm around her waist, tucking her into his side, even as he looks down in surprise. She's determinedly not looking at him, and it strikes him hard then - Castiel may have lost his mom, but he never really  _ had  _ her in the first place. He still has his Dad, who may not be the world's most put-together man, but whose love he's never had to question. He's not entirely alone, no matter how much it feels that way sometimes. Charlie, on the other hand, doesn't seem to have anyone else other than Naomi - without her, she's completely alone, completely lost. 

The realization makes his breath stutter, his chest tightening with warmth for her. His wolf whines in agreement, quickly sorting her into the category of  _ 'to protect' _ in his familial bonds.

But her stance is closed off, vulnerable, and so he doesn't remark, simply tugging her close. She shoots him a grateful smile and they wander out of the suite, stopping only to quickly grab her purse, his wallet and the keys. 

"Where are we going?" he asks her as they make their way to the elevator. 

The smile her lips curve into is quietly sad and reminiscent. 

"I never told you why Naomi and I came to San Diego in the first place," she murmurs. "Before the accident..."

She trails away, chewing on her lip, and silence falls for a moment. Castiel can still hear the ringing of his phone in his tiny, studio apartment as he studied for his finals - Naomi was pronounced brain dead barely hours after she was admitted. The truck that hit her car swerved and rolled over, and Castiel pauses, wondering if it hurt anyone else. 

"I grew up here," she admits. "Naomi and I were gonna visit some of the places I lived in. I convinced her to take a vacation, because we just closed a ten million-dollar deal and she hasn't... we haven't... if I hadn't..." 

Her voice breaks and Castiel squeezes her shoulder slightly. She sniffles, shooting him a grateful look, and then squares her shoulders. His wolf protests, wanting to lead her back to the suite and smother her with his protective scent and warmth, but she's neither going to understand, nor does she know him well enough for that kind of comfort, so he ignores the little shit, which whines in his mind. 

"Well," he tells her quietly, "Show me these places where you grew up, then."

Charlie smiles and takes him out, leading him to a classic, yellow colored car that looks like it's out of the eighties. He raises an eyebrow at it and she grins, shrugging and throwing open the door to the driver's seat. Shaking his head, he gets in, sliding in next to her, quickly yanking his phone out to text Chuck that they're going out for a while. 

_ Be safe. And keep an eye on Charlie.  _

Castiel snorts, amused that he isn't the only one to have apparently adopted Charlie already - Chuck's wolf clearly feels the same as his own does, even if they don't know her as well yet. A whimsical part of him wonders how humans ever bond without the aid of scent and touch; his wolf instincts tell him that she's lonely and trustworthy, even if his human half is cautious. 

He wonders if that was why Naomi left - was he too wolf for her? 

Banishing the thought, he turns his attention outward, resolutely refusing to think about the funeral tomorrow. After it, he knows, he's going to need to leave it all behind, to go for a run in the forest, to howl and to chase and to feel in control. But for now...

For now, he'll focus on what Charlie wants to show him. 

The first place they visit is a Soup Kitchen. 

Castiel turns to the redhead, who refuses to meet his eyes, even as she greets Donna, the woman who runs it, warmly. 

"Charlie!" the blonde's Southern accent is strong. She reaches out to quickly pull Charlie into a hug, but Castiel frowns, sniffing the air as discreetly as he can. There's a strange, almost familiar scent like she's - 

"Charlie Bradbury!" 

A taller, dark haired woman emerges from within the confines of the small building to join the hug, and Castiel's mind stutters to a halt at the smell of her. 

This is a were. That means...

His head whips to Donna again, eyes narrowing in on the small mating scar on her neck, now made visible by the way she tosses her hair back. 

"Who're you?" the newer woman growls suddenly, sensing a threat to her territory and Castiel blinks.  _ She's an alpha too,  _ he realizes. His own wolf straightens up and growls back instantly, but he quells those instincts, instead tilting his head slightly, indicating that he's means no harm. 

"That's Cas, Jody," Charlie says hurriedly. "Naomi's son."

The alpha - Jody - pauses, letting go of Charlie to grab her human mate and wrap her arm around her waist. Castiel takes the hint for what it is - _ stay away from me and mine _ \- and simply smiles. 

"It's a pleasure," he bows his head. 

Donna chuckles, stepping away from Jody and reaches out to grab him in a hug. He's startled, but hugs her back, eyes meeting Jody's over her shoulders. She shrugs, a smile playing at the corner of her own mouth, and he lets Donna go. 

She elbows her wife and rolls her eyes. "May as well pee on me, Jodes," she snorts. 

Jody winks. "Just takin' care of what's mine," she answers easily. Turning to Castiel, she adds softly, "I'm sorry about Naomi. If there's anything we can do..."

His chest tightens, but he can only nod and smile politely. "Thank you," he tells them sincerely. 

"How long you here for, Red?" Donna pats Charlie's arm. 

"Till, uh..." she shrugs, "The funeral's tomorrow. Then I gotta fly Cas back to Sacramento, get him in with the Board." She winces, making a face, "I can't wait to see Zach's face when a red-blooded kid takes over the company." 

"Why do I get the feeling you're quoting him?" Castiel grumbles and Jody laughs. 

"Because she is," she agrees easily. "Zachariah Adler's the biggest ass on the planet," she studies him for a moment, "You've got your work cut out for you, kid." 

Grumbling under his breath, he follows them into the soup kitchen, and when Charlie asks him if he wants to join her in helping the two women out for the day, he agrees readily. A part of him marvels at the easy way in which she greets them all. Missouri, the cook, embraces her like she's a long-lost daughter; Alex, the sullen teenager handing out the food, actually smiles at the sight of her and exchanges fist-bumps with her, and a young thirteen year old boy Jody tells him is Samandriel races over to Charlie for a hug the minute he sees her. 

But then, Castiel supposes, she grew up here - just like him, she's from a working class background, with no airs or no pretenses. 

His wolf curls up smugly, and he rolls his eyes, joining Charlie and doing his best to learn each name and each face. They're all people, he realizes, just like him, and even though the rest of the afternoon is spent running around on his feet and his heart aches from how little he actually can do, he feels good when they finally bid their farewells to Jody and Donna. 

"You're a good kid," Donna drawls, hugging him quickly. He feels tears prick his eyes, but simply nods, thanking her. 

"Take care of her," Jody murmurs, jerking her head towards Charlie, who's saying her own goodbye to Donna. "She's strong, but she won't tell anyone she needs 'em." 

"She's my friend," Castiel reassures her, unsurprised to find out that it's the truth. "I'll look out for her." 

He levels her with a look that she interprets easily; they're no longer in the wild, but Charlie is his pack now, and Jody's wolf understands. 

And apparently approves - her face breaks out in a sunny smile, and she nods, stepping back. 

"Don't be a stranger now," she orders. 

"Yes ma'am," he laughs, wrapping an arm around Charlie as she comes to his side. She hums, waving to the two women, and they make their way back to the parking lot, where he turns to her with a soft smile. 

"Where to now?" he asks. 

"One more place," she answers, revving up the engine. "But Cas..." he looks at her expectantly when her voice turns hesitant, "I'm not sure how they'll take a were comin' in," she says honestly. "Roman Home for Orphan Kids ain't exactly a paragon of virtue. I didn't even spend very long there, and I hated every moment I was there." 

He frowns. "Then why go there?" he mutters. 

"It's..." 

They drive in silence for a while, and he doesn't interrupt, waiting for her to gather herself together. 

"To remind myself, I suppose,” she says finally. “That I’m not what I used to be. That where I come from maybe a shitty place, but I still made it.” 

There’s a brittle set to her voice that makes his wolf whine and want to smother her in his scent. But he ignores it, reaching out to squeeze her hands gently as she parks the car. 

“And,” she continues, “I love the kids… some of ‘em are bratty little snots, but they didn't ask to be in this situation… I know what that’s like.”

“I can wait in the car,” he offers. “If they’re uncomfortable with the idea of weres, I can wait for you in the car.” 

She pauses, considering it, and then shakes her head. “You’re doing nothing illegal,” she says, getting out of the car. “And Ezekiel and April will just have to deal; the kids are gonna come in contact with were eventually, when they go to school at least.”

“Ezekiel and April?” he gets out and follows her, eying in the small, run-down building in front of them. It’s smaller than he expected, though the board on top - ROMAN’S HOME FOR ORPHAN KIDS - looks grand and decorative. 

“They run this foster care home,” she tells him, rolling her shoulders. Her scent turns pungent and bitter, and he knows not to ask any more questions. The ensuing silence between them has never been heavier, even when she was telling him about his mother’s will and her impending death. 

“To be fair,” she breaks the silence abruptly, “They do try. There just never seems to be enough funds.” 

Castiel sees the way she swallows hard, and knows there’s more to it than that. But he doesn’t comment, instead giving in to his wolf’s instinct to reach out and tug her close. She startles, shooting him a surprised look, before tucking herself into his side like before. 

They walk into the lobby like that. Castiel wrinkles his nose at the scent that hits him - he can pick out individual strands of worry, fear and even hunger, and it makes his belly churn. 

Was this what Charlie grew up with? 

There’s a sour-looking man sitting at the front desk, his hair slicked back as he glares at the computer screen in front of him. 

“Edgar,” Charlie greets. In the distance, Castiel can hear the sounds of children bickering and yelling, and the loud cries of babies over the din, his sensitive ears picking out individual voices easily. 

The man looks up, his scowl deepening at the sight of the redhead. “Charlie,” he grunts. “Her Highness has decided to grace us with her presence, has she?” 

Castiel stiffens at the hostility in his voice, his wolf’s hackles rising at the stench of irritation that floats across.  

“Lovely as always to see you, Edgar,” Charlie answers, her voice dripping sarcasm. “Can I go see the kids now?” 

Edgar grunts and waves his hand over the direction of the doors that lead to the rooms, rolling his eyes. “We are at your service, Milady,” he says tersely. 

Castiel growls, about to snap at him, but Charlie draws his attention with a warning touch to his arm and he looks down to see her shaking her head. Muttering under his breath, he follows her lead, unable to resist throwing a glare at Edgar, who resolutely ignores him and goes back to scowling at his computer. 

“Edgar’s a dick,” Charlie mumbles, “But he ain’t…” she shrugs. “Let’s just go.” 

Untangling himself from him, she strides forward. The rigid set of her shoulders is telling, but Castiel doesn’t remark, walking after her, keeping a protective eye out for potential threats. His wolf is snarling, perceiving the threat in the air and he’s about to step ahead of her, when a small bundle collides with her legs. 

He blinks, surprised, and suddenly, Charlie’s closed off stance melts. A loud, tinkling peal of laughter resounds as she goes on her knees and hugs the little boy who’s thrown himself at her. 

“Charlie!” 

“Harry!” she chuckles and ruffles his hair. Another, smaller boy wearing glasses ambles up to them, pouting before Charlie reaches over to pull him to her as well. 

“Hi Ed,” she greets. She gestures for Castiel to come forward and join them, and he does so, going on his knees next to her, carefully studying the two boys. 

“Cas,” she says, “This is Ed and this is Harry. They’re my buddies.” 

“We chase ghosts,” Harry informs him, a pompous tone to his voice. “We want to be professional ghost-chasers someday. Do you like ghosts?” 

Castiel holds back a snort of amusement just in time. Charlie shoots him an amused look, but doesn’t remark, letting him take the lead. 

“Well, I’ve never chased one, so I can’t say,” he answers gravely. “But it sounds dangerous.” 

Ed nods seriously. “It is!” he claims. “Harry and I are gonna start a ghost-chasing group. We’ll make a TV show someday.” 

“And what’ll you name it, you little rascal?” Charlie tickles his belly and he shrieks out a laugh. 

“We’re the Ghostfacers!” Harry strikes a comical pose and Castiel can't help it any more - he doubles over in laughter, chuckling and offering the boy a high-five. 

He smells her before he recognizes her cries. 

Lord above - _ that smell.  _

He would know it anywhere, remembers it from the worst night of his life. It’s been three days since then, three days that he’s walked around in a daze, but it feels as though someone has dumped a bucket of ice cold water on him - he can smell her clearly, and he  _ knows  _ her. 

His head whips up to stare in the direction of the woman carrying the pup gingerly, even as the baby screams herself hoarse in her arms. Behind her, a man carries two more babies on either arm, who are also crying, but Castiel ignores them, focusing on the were pup in the woman’s arms. 

She was  _ supposed  _ to be with her omega father - she was supposed to grow up with two loving parents, because  _ that  _ was what her grandfather promised the nurse, because that was what gave him the strength to call his own father. 

He stood by and watched them pull the plug on his mother’s, because somewhere at the back of his mind, he assumed that the girl would get her happy ending. If he couldn't… if  _ his  _ mom rejected him, then  _ somewhere  _ out there was a young pup, beginning a new life with her alpha and her omega dads. 

She was supposed to live the life he couldn't. 

It’s silly, he  _ knows  _ it’s silly and stupid, makes  _ no  _ sense whatsoever. But in that singular moment, the thought of that pup gave him the strength he needed to hold Chuck up when his alpha fell to his knees in tears, knowing that his mate - no matter that they were estranged - was forever gone. 

“No,” he growls. 

Ed and Harry look startled as he pushes them away, and strides to the woman. She’s grunting, trying to calm the pup, patting her rather impatiently, her hair askew and a tired look on her face. 

But that isn't what stops him short. 

The woman’s wearing gloves -  _ she’s being careful not to touch the pup’s skin directly.  _

And the horror of it hits Castiel even harder than his mother’s death did. 

The pup hasn’t been touched _ since the moment she was born _ , which, if Castiel’s math is right, was over four days ago. 

Her omega father didn't even  _ touch  _ her before he threw her out. 

Bile rises up his throat so fast, he feels light-headed. His wolf is snarling, hackles raised, and suddenly, all he wants is to rip, to  _ shred  _ the omega to  _ pieces  _ \- he  _ abandoned  _ this pup, left her to humans, _ left her alone -  _

“Cas!” 

Charlie’s voice is just as hard as the punch she throws at his arm. Castiel winces, vision clearing as he breathes in through his mouth in an attempt to calm himself. 

The blonde woman in front of him has stuttered to a stop, her eyes wide, her expression terrified. Around him, Castiel sees that most of the other kids have scampered off, banding together, similar expressions of fright on their small faces. 

Guilt churns in his belly, but he forces it away, heading towards the pup, who is still screaming loudly. 

Her scent - that soft orange and lemonade citrus he remembers - is coated with the bitter, acrid stench of fear, and his heart does a flip-flop. The woman glares at him when he nears her, yanking the baby towards herself, still careful to keep her skin away from her own. 

“You’re a were,” she states flatly. It isn’t a question - she can see the way his teeth are drawn back, sense his anger the way a human would a predator that’s about to attack. 

“Who is she?” he growls in lieu of a response. “Where’s her alpha?” 

“Look, dude,” the man behind her grunts. “You can't just march in her and scare the shit outta the kids.” The babies in his arms have gone quiet, whimpering softly, big eyes following Castiel closely. 

But the pup is still screaming, and Castiel’s wolf is howling -  _ howling -  _

He knows what he wants to do. But he can’t, not yet, not until he knows everything. 

“Who is she?” he demands again through gritted teeth. “Tell me  _ now _ .” 

“Emma,” the woman squeaks, her voice shaking, her scent pungent with fear. “Emma Mary was what her grandfather called her when he left her here. Said he and his son didn't want her.”

“We told him,” the man behind her continues, “That we don't accept were kids here, but he’s one of Crowley’s contacts, and we need that son of-uh, son of a gun to run this place… and…” he shrugs. 

“Crowley?” Charlie snaps. “You’re takin’ help from Crowley now?” 

The man glares back at her. “Look around you, Charlie,” he retorts. “We’re not exactly swimmin’ in cash.” 

“But  _ Crowley _ , Ezekiel? He’s a loan shark-”

Castiel drowns out the ensuing argument in favor of looking down at the little pup, still crying loudly, reaching for the warmth of her parents. Her hands and legs are kicking uselessly, and the woman’s struggling to hold her, trying to soothe her as best as she can. 

_ It’s not her fault, _ he tells himself, sickened to his stomach at the thought of  _ no  _ one touching this little pup for almost a week. She didn't know how important touch is to weres - or rather, she  _ knows _ , and wants no part of the ensuing imprinting or the emotional trauma of raising a were. Even for a human being, not being touched for a week could be painful; for a were, who navigate their first few years through touch and smell and all senses other than their eyes…

It’s the worst thing he can imagine. 

“She has no one?” he asks tersely. “Her grandfather signed her over?” 

The woman nods. “He said neither he nor his son wanted her, did all the paperwork for adoption. We’ve been trying to get in touch with were adoption agencies, but there aren’t many to begin with, and the few within the state are backlogged for months.” 

“And you haven’t touched her,” he states, tone flattened with barely contained anger. 

She glared back at him angrily. “I’m  _ human _ ,” she snaps. “None of us know how to handle a damn pup - it’s hard enough to deal with twenty normal kids, much less one that can Shift into a predator!” 

“She’s not a burden!” he roars suddenly, seeing red. 

Naomi walked out, she left, she  _ left  _ \- because of this. Because she couldn't deal with a were, because she didn't want to be a mother, because  _ he  _ scared her. 

This pup’s father… he abandoned her. He didn't even touch her, didn't even allow her the safety and the warmth of those first few touches that are essential to the physical and mental well-being of any pup. Naomi walked out, but at least she held him in those moments. 

What damage has this pup felt already? 

No wonder she won't stop crying. 

“Give her to me,” he demands. 

The woman holds her closer, eyeing him suspiciously. His wolf is just about ready to rip and claw something, so he growls back, letting the feral animal out just the slightest bit, and she trembles, instantly handing the pup over, as though she were something to be feared. 

Up close, Castiel can see that she’s cried herself pink, her face flushed and wet with tears. Her little fists are clenched, eyes scrunched up, and under the blanket that swaddles her, he sees a patch of thick, red hair, matted with sweat. 

_ Lord above… _

She wants to be  _ held  _ \- he can smell it, smell the longing and the fear and the loneliness in her scent. 

She’s barely days old, and he can already feel her heartbreak. 

His wolf howls, propelling him forward, and he doesn’t even think twice, grabbing her from the woman. For the space of a single heartbeat, he hesitates - what the hell does he know about pups and babies? 

And then she kicks her arms and legs vigorously, no doubt smelling the alpha were holding her, and her screams get louder than they were before. The woman backs away, and dimly, Castiel is aware of everyone in the background falling silent. He ignores all of them, sudden awe blossoming in his belly, his breath catching in his throat as he looks down at her. 

_ This is… _

He knows what he has to do. 

As gently as he can, he cradles her neck with his palm, supporting her head carefully and holding her up with one arm, settling her in the crook of his elbow. Tenderly, he pushes the blanket back from her hair to allow some air flow, and holds his hand up to her face. For a second, he hovers there unsure. 

She turns her face into his palm, as though sensing his fear, and then shrieks again, even as she nuzzles into his touch. Warm wetness coats his fingers, and he takes a sharp breath at the feel of her tears, before her angry cries mellow down into soft whimpers. 

Without another word, he lifts her up and holds her to his chest, craning his neck to offer the skin to her. She scents him eagerly, digging her tiny nose into the crook of his shoulder where his scent is the strongest, and suddenly, as though by magic, falls silent. 

And he  _ feels  _ it - the warmth of her heart beating next to his own, the pinch of her fingers where she’s holding on to him tightly, and slight sniffles where she’s still quietly crying into his skin. 

_ She’s imprinted on him.  _

Their scents mingle, and he can smell it - smell the way she needs him, the way she trusts him now. 

Gasping out a sob of his own, he holds her close, meeting Charlie’s worried gaze over a mop of wet, red hair. 

_ It’s okay,  _ he mouths. _ She’s mine.  _

Charlie shrugs, blinking, and Castiel looks down, the truth of that statement settling into his bones as he takes in the curve of the flushed cheek. 

She’s his. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

“Dean Winchester?”

The sudden call has Dean stumbling against his chair and he quickly slams the lid of his laptop down, blinking up at the short man standing in front of him. His hand hovers over his Mac nervously - no way in hell he’s letting Jo find out that he’s reading Dr. Sexy fanfic online - and he narrows his eyes at the dude, wondering if he’s somehow missed a new customer. 

Dean’s the boss around here; while that means that he’s more often than not up to his elbows in grease and tinkering with the engine of a classic car, it also means that his dinky little office at the back of the garage is off limits to most people who are not him. Krissy’s the one who handles the customers at the front desk - she only ever sends them in here if something is seriously wrong. 

“Can I help you?” he grits his teeth, wrinkling his nose at the strange scent…  _ oh fuck.  _

This guy’s a were - an alpha. 

“My name’s Aaron?” the dude says, almost shyly. He’s cute, in an offhand, nerdy kind of way, with a small beard and a soft smile. Sixteen year old Dean would’ve been all over him, and clearly, that’s what John still thinks he is. 

At twenty-seven, Dean’s far beyond this kind of bullshit. 

“So?” he snaps. “You need a car fixed?” 

Aaron blinks, taken aback. “Um…” he scratches the back of his neck, “your father said you’d be here and that we were to get lunch together?” 

It’s not uncommon for the alphas of were families to set their kids up, even when they’re in their late twenties -  _ especially  _ in their late twenties. Alpha or omega, being unmated so late is frowned upon; sure, alphas get some more time than omegas, but the fact is most people get mated in their early twenties and spend the rest of their lives popping pups out like a machine.

Dean’s not most people. 

So he growls, allowing his inner wolf to slide forward just the slightest bit. Aaron’s eyes narrow and he growls back - ah,  _ there’s  _ the alpha whose cloying stench is stinking up Dean’s private space. 

“Look dude,” he says. “I’m sorry you’re gettin’ the raw end of this deal, but I ain’t interested in a mate.”

“Why not?” Aaron challenges. “What’s wrong with me? I’m smart, I own a chain of diners downtown and I host a LARP party at my place every once in three months - your dad said you liked that sorta thing.” 

It’s Dean’s turn to blink. 

“That’s… kind of awesome, actually,” he admits. Sinking back into his chair, he sighs, massaging his temples with his hands. “Look,” he clears his throat awkwardly, “I appreciate your interest, I do. I’m just… not interested. It’s not you, it’s me.” He physically has to hold back a cringe at that line, but Aaron’s frown just deepens. 

“But your dad said-” 

“My dad’s an asshole who never asked me what  _ I _ wanted,” Dean cuts him off, annoyed. “I’m off the goddamned market for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that I’m an unmated omega who’s already given birth to and lost a fucking pup once. I’m damaged goods, not worth your precious effort, so the door’s over there and you can show yourself out.” 

Aaron looks dumbfounded, but Dean resolutely ignores him, throwing the lid of his Mac open and pretending to be engrossed with the screen. For a moment, he remains tense - the air is rife with the smell of confusion and the instinctive anger of an alpha being turned by an omega - and then Aaron turns, scoffing, and strides out the door without a backward glance. 

Dean watches him go through the small window, and then slams his laptop lid down again, yanking out his phone. He’s simmering with anger, hands actually shaking, and he’s so  _ fucking  _ tired of Dad’s goddamned bullshit, he doesn’t know what to say for a moment. 

He waits impatiently for the asshole to pick up, clenching his fists and trying to breathe in slowly in an attempt to calm himself down. His wolf is snarling, ready to pounce and he agrees - the  _ hell  _ does Dad think, sending a prospective suitor down to the goddamned  _ garage  _ like this? 

“Dean,” John greets, voice almost cordial. “You meet Aaron, son? He was gonna take you out to lunch-” 

“The  _ fuck  _ are you playin’ at Dad?” he asks tightly, through clenched teeth. “Why would you send him to the garage?”

“Because you keep chasin’ alphas away from the house, that’s why,” John snarks. “Dean, you can’t-” 

“I tolerate your bullshit at home, Dad,” Dean snaps. “Don't you dare send it over to my workplace. The garage is not your own freaking matchmaking service.” 

“Seeing as  _ I _ built it,” John snaps right back, “It is whatever  _ I _ say it is. You’re a twenty-seven year old unmated omega - the hell do you think people are sayin’?”

“I’m not having this argument with you again,” Dean snarls. “Butt the fuck out of my life; you don't own me, and you ain't the boss of me, so stop sending me random ass weres at work!”

“Dean, you’re gettin’ older-” 

He cuts the call before John can finish. A moment later, his phone lights up and trings, with his Dad’s face scowling out at him, and he simply refuses to take it, turning his phone off and sinking back into his chair, feeling drained. 

It wasn’t always like this. 

There was once a time when he worshipped John Winchester, when Dad could make no mistake. Sam questioned - again and again - Dean’s blind faith in the man, but Dean himself never once disobeyed directly, even if their alpha wasn’t technically an alpha. 

He wonders numbly if all kids get this disillusioned with their parents. 

Would Emma have become this disappointed in him? Would she have been so angry, would she have wanted to get to a point where she didn't want to see his face? 

He’d take it, if she did. Because that would mean she’d still be  _ alive  _ to hate him at least, not rotting ten feet under the ground, where he can never touch her, where he can't ever hear her voice. 

Reaching out, he lets his hand hover over the photoframe he keeps on his desk. There are exactly two photographs on the stand - one of Emma Mary, taken the day she was born, and the other of Sam and him, on the day Sam graduated high school. 

He never even  _ saw  _ her. 

The truck hit him,  _ kaboom _ , and he was unconscious. She died on impact - they cut him open to find a dead pup inside him. She didn't even get the chance to  _ breathe  _ properly before John put her in the ground. 

The only evidence he has of her existence is this single photograph and the stretch marks and scars on his belly. John took one single, lonely picture of her before he had her buried - Dean wasn’t even there for his pup’s  _ funeral _ . 

Swallowing hard, he rubs the tears out of his eyes; it’s been seven fucking years, but the pain of losing her is still as raw a wound as it was that day he woke up naked in his own house, Sam curling into his side to comfort him with touch. 

His wolf is whining miserably at the thought of their lost pup - he doesn’t even know what color her eyes are. 

_ She could almost be sleeping,  _ he thinks, looking at the picture. Her soft red hair - clearly a gift from her mother - flutters around her face, and her cheeks are flushed a soft pink like most newborns. If not for the fact that she currently lies a graveyard, he could almost pretend that she’s still alive and this is a baby picture of her from when she was just born. 

This… this is where his relationship with John began to sour. Sam was already on rocky footing with Dad before, but this…

Losing Emma was one thing. 

Waking up to her being already buried, with a gravestone constructed over her… that’s another level of douchebaggery altogether. 

John didn't even let  _ Sam  _ see her - he just brought Dean back from the hospital, had her buried, and  _ then  _ contacted his youngest, who didn't even know that Dean was in an accident until after it was all over. 

_ I didn't want you to touch her and feel her cold skin, _ he can still hear his father’s protests in his ears. He claimed that the touch that was so important to weres coulda been detrimental to Dean’s mental health after he woke up - he didn't understand that Dean’s wolf  _ still  _ runs around in the woods when he wears his fur, searching for the pup they never got the chance to say goodbye to. 

Sighing, he gets up, pushing his chair back and heading out to the garage. His heart is heavy and he’s in no mood for Dr. Sexy fic anymore - he needs to tinker with a machine, needs to feel the grease of motor oil on his fingertips. Either that or he’s gonna need to go feral for a while and hunt something, and since he can't exactly go runnin’ right now, he’ll go see if there are cars that he can wrangle into submission. 

The garage is bustling with activity when he walks out; the familiar scents of his mechanics, combined with the smell of grease and metal, instantly soothe his frazzled wolf. The little shit whines a little and Dean breathes in deeply, already more grounded than he was in his office. He heads over to the front desk where Krissy’s busy playing with her phone and glares down at her with pursed lips. 

“Boss!” she offers him a sheepish grin, ducking her phone into the drawer and shrugging. 

“Don't stop on my account,” he snorts. 

It takes her a moment to catch up to the rigid set of his shoulders and the pungent smell of his displeasure. Straightening up, her expression turns serious and she raises one dark eyebrow in question. 

“You alright there, old man?” she snarks. 

“Did my Dad tell you that that alpha was stoppin’ by?” he demands.

Because Dean needs to trust his workers, dammit - the garage is his one safe space, and he assumed that all of his men and women, were or human, are on his side. Sometimes his relationship with Dad feels like it’s a blasted war, and he needs every single soldier he can get. 

Krissy shakes her head, brows drawing together in a frown. “No,” she tells him honestly. “Mr. Bass came by and told me he had a meeting with you. He seemed legit, and I didn't scent a lie, so I sent him over to your office… everythin’ okay?” 

She tenses up, her wolf peeking through her eyes to whine at him worriedly. Krissy maybe an omega like him, but she’s tough, and most people often underestimate her for it. That also means she gets protective as fuck when she feels that one of her pack is threatened, and given that she’s been a part of his pack for years now, that sentiment is clearly showing. 

Breathing out slowly, Dean relaxes, reaching out to ruffle her hair gently. “‘S all good, kiddo,” he says. “Dad’s just bein’ an asshole.”

“What’d John do this time?” 

Jo’s beta scent - of lemon and honey - even when muted in comparison to Krissy’s strong, omega vapour and tea, soothes him. 

He whirls around to see his pseudo-sister behind him, an expectant look on her face, her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Threw another alpha at me,” Dean grunts in response. “Nothin’ new.” 

Krissy’s expression morphs into one of anger and she reaches out to grab Dean’s hand to get his attention. He turns to her and she smiles weakly, shaking her head. 

“I’m sorry, boss,” she says. “Wouldn't’a sent him if I’d known who he was.” 

“Not your fault,” Dean answers. He pats her shoulder and then turns back to Jo, who’s scowling. Krissy’s still a kid - heading off to college next fall - and Lee doesn’t give a shit about were culture in the first place, so she gets it relatively easy when it comes to mating and crap. 

Jo, on the other hand… Jo understands - Ellen’s as much of a hardass as John is, and she’s been pushin’ Jo to find a mate as soon as she can. Jo’s only two years younger than him and a beta to boot, but that hasn’t stopped Ellen from trying to set her up with as many people as possible. 

A random part of Dean wonders if the difference between Ellen, John and Lee is their human and were natures - is it because Ellen and John aren’t were that they’re so conscious of were culture, even when alpha Lee himself doesn’t give a fuck? 

“Bullshit,” Jo’s voice is tightly controlled. 

“Kris,” Dean interrupts, “Just shoot me a text the next time an unexpected visitor turns up, alright? Before you send him over to my office.” 

Krissy nods. “Sure thing, bossman,” she salutes him. 

Dean wraps an arm around Jo’s small shoulders and leads her back into the workspace. His wolf whines at the feel of her pressed against him - lord, but it feels good, and honestly, he wants nothing more than to just curl up in front of a fire with her and Sam and let the touch and smell of them soothe away his hurt. 

“Do you want me to kick his ass, Dean?” Jo demands, “Cuz I  _ will  _ kick his ass.” 

He snorts. “I know you will,” he tells her amusedly. “But it ain't worth it. Sam’s not comin’ for Thanksgiving and I gotta be the one to deal with him, so I’d prefer if we weren’t at each other’s throats.” 

Jo’s frown deepens. “Sam ain't comin’?” 

Dean shakes his head. “Nope,” he says, popping the  _ P  _ as hard as he can. “Flight tickets aren’t cheap and kid thinks it ain't worth it to waste that much for a week’s holiday.”

Jo pouts. “But I wanna see him,” she whines. 

Dean’s wolf whines along with her, and he sighs, dropping a kiss to her cheek. “Me too,” he murmurs. They fall silent for a long moment, before Jo turns to him with a serious expression. 

“Wanna sleep over tonight?” she asks in a low voice. 

“God yes,” he answers, heaving a sigh of relief. Sleeping over at Jo’s always soothes his wolf’s need for its pack; they can cuddle to their heart’s content and none of his high will be interrupted with the shit-storm that is John Winchester’s toxicity. Ellen will leave them alone if she doesn’t join in, and his wolf thinks of the Roadhouse as part of its territory, so the smells and the sounds of the bar will help him relax.

“I’ll rope in Krissy, Garth and Benny as well,” she squeezes his arm. “Won’t make up for Sam, but… we gotta work with what we got.” 

“It’s enough,” he tells her honestly, leaning in to quickly kiss her cheek. Behind them, Rufus is making a face at the Cadillac he’s been refitting, and Dean squares his shoulders, moving away from Jo to transform back into the boss that he is around her. 

*-*-*

As expected, John Winchester is not happy about the fact that he doesn’t go home that night. Dean gets about nine phone calls before Dad gets the fucking message and stops buggin’ him - instead, the asshole calls Ellen, and he can hear her reassure him over the din of the Roadhouse through the small door that connects Jo’s bedroom to the bar outside. 

He rolls his eyes, but Jesus, he has no energy to deal with the fact that his Dad still thinks he needs supervision at twenty-seven. So he ignores the world outside and buries himself in the familiar scent of his ‘pack’, all of them curled around one another like little puppies. Benny and Garth were a bit skittish at first - humans, at least the ones Dean’s met, are squeamish about touch and nudity - but they’ve warmed up since then, and it’s become a ritual of sorts to do this at least once a month. Garth actually hangs off of Jo now, and he doesn’t hesitate to tackle Dean with a hug the minute he sees him. 

They inhale their body weight in junk food, and Jo, curled up on Dean’s lap, reaches over his shoulder to turn the next season of Dr. Sexy on. Collective groans echo from the rest of the party, Krissy even going so far as to slap Dean’s thigh in protest, but Jo just grins widely and scents his neck and Dean’s never felt more at home than he does right now. 

“You alrigh’, brotha?” Benny asks softly, when they finally turn the lights out sometime after midnight. It’s early yet, but they’re all working tomorrow - Dean’s work ethic won't allow him to close the garage on a weekday and for some reason, his workers take after him. 

He looks up and offers his best friend a quick smile. He’s not surprised that Benny’s picked up on his discomfort; for all that the man is a human, he reads people as well as Dean does. 

“I’m okay,” he shrugs. “Thanks, man.” 

Benny leans over to wrap an arm around Dean and pull him close, allowing him to bury his face in his neck. Krissy grunts as she’s jostled from where she’s lying on Dean’s lap, but he ignores her in favor of scenting Benny, filling his nostrils with the deep, comforting scent of motor oil and engine. The omega hindbrain of his wolf’s sighs softly - he won't ever admit it, but the hugeness of Benny’s frame and his strong hands feel like an alpha’s even if he’s human, and sometimes he just needs that to lean on. 

The sentiment returns the next day when he’s at the garage, fending off calls from John after that. He showered and shaved at Jo’s, changing into the spare set of clothes he keeps at  her place (they’ve all got drawers for each other, and it’s weird to outsiders but what the fuck ever), but coming back into his office drains him of whatever energy he recharged last night and he just does not feel like dealing with John today. 

So he hangs up, throws his phone into his bag and marches outside to join the rest of his mechanics. Rufus throws him a questioning look, but Dean ignores the ornery old coot, knowing he’s probably gonna get himself lectured by both Rufus and Bobby later, but who gives a damn really? 

He’s up to his elbows in engine grease and his wolf is chasing its tail happily when Krissy calls for him. Straightening up, he nearly bumps his head on the hood of the car, and the spanner he’s holding drop to the floor with a metallic thud, barely missing his little toe. 

“Son of a bitch!” he swears, rubbing his throbbing head and whirls around.

The protest dies on his lips as his eyes fall on the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen. Wide, electric blue eyes peer out at him from beneath a shaggy mop of black hair that he’d love to run his hand through and mess up even more. His stubble-roughened jaw is square enough to cut paper on, and the amused smile his lips curve into turn his face into something resembling beautiful. 

It isn't just that though… the man looks somewhat familiar, but Dean can't place where he’s seen him before. A smirk curves his own lips as he notes the guy’s raking down his own form - he knows when he’s being checked out, and this is definitely one of those moments. His little shit of a wolf whines, preening, and suddenly, Dean wants to roll over and present to this dude. Licking his lips, he raises an eyebrow, ignoring Krissy’s knowing smirk as she winks at him. 

“This is our owner, Mr. Shurley,” she says brightly. “Dean Winchester.” 

Her tone is a bit too smug for Dean’s taste, and he reaches out to push her gently back to her desk. 

“Thanks, Kris,” he mutters. She bounces away, grinning widely, and he wrinkles his nose after her, nevertheless savoring the smell of happy omega that she leaves in her wake. 

That's when it hits him - he can't smell the man at _ all.  _

Human or were, every person has a distinct identifying scent that they carry around with them. Sam smells like wet mud after a rainshower and John like bitter coffee gone cold. While were scents tend to be stronger, humans put out their own muted pheromones - their weak olfactory perception means that they can't smell like weres can, so they don't  _ know _ that they have a specific smell like weres do. 

The only thing that can mute a scent completely is a phero-suppressor. Humans don't usually use it, and most weres Dean’s met don't take it either - scent is usually the first thing weres use to help them navigate interaction with each other. 

Which means that this man, whoever he is, needs a tight control on his scent. 

All of this flashes through his mind in an instant, and Dean’s smile turns guarded as nods at him. 

“What can I do you for, man?” he asks. 

The dude - _ Mr. Shurley, _ Dean recalls Krissy saying - tilts his head. “Call me Castiel,” he says, and fuck, but that voice… it sounds like he’s guzzled whiskey and vodka and come out on top. Dean’s wolf whines and he purses his lips, ignoring the low swoop of desire in his belly. 

And then his mind catches up to what he just said. 

Castiel. 

_ Castiel Shurley.  _

Jesus, no wonder the man looks familiar - this is the goddamned CEO of one of the biggest tech conglomerates in the country. He recalls the huge drama the press made out of his taking over his mother’s company, something about him being a novice and from a working class background. 

He doesn’t recall the actual details of the story itself, because it was right after Emma’s death - most of those days were passed in a daze of booze and self-loathing before Bobby, Jo and Rufus ganged up on him with Sam to drag his ass back to the garage. 

Castiel’s so far open expression shuts down the minute he notices Dean tense up at the sound of his name. His hand makes an abortive movement towards shaking Dean’s hand, as though he’s reconsidering it, and Dean winces.

“You recognize me,” Castiel says in curiously flat tone. Before Dean can respond, he continues, “Well, my car broke down and I would like to contract you to fix it so we can be on our way.” 

Dean schools his expression into one of measured calm - clearly, Castiel is used to be recognized and clearly, he’s not fond of it.  _ It doesn’t matter,  _ he tells his wolf, which is upset at having upset him, which doesn’t even fucking make sense, because he’s known this man for all of ten minutes. 

“Of course, Mr. Shurley,” he offers him the most charming smile he can muster. “That’s what we do here. Where’s your car?” 

“Middle of the road, down the street,” he grunts back. “I was gonna call for a tow-truck, but one of the locals told me you were close by so I decided to just walk here and call for a mechanic.” 

Dean frowns. “You left your car in the middle of the road and walked here?” he barks. 

Castiel glares at him. “Yes,” he snaps back. “I walked. Is that a problem?” 

He just left a car  _ sitting  _ there in the dusty, busy road. Dean’s eyes narrow at him, and he wipes his hand on his coveralls, ignoring the flinch that gets him, and instead, glares at the man irritatedly. CEO or not, he can't be bothered to deal with men who treat their cars like crap. His wolf is growling, and he knows he’s posturing from the way those blue eyes widen, but he ignores him and jerks his head towards the garage’s entrance. 

“C’mon,” he says, “Show me. We’ll see if we can rig her up enough to drive her in or if we need to call for a tow.” 

Castiel doesn't say anything else, but huffs and does as ordered. Dean orders Krissy to keep an eye on things and rolls his eyes at her two-finger salute, and heads out, following the CEO irritatedly. 

It’s the middle of the day, and Dean winces as the heat hits him; it’s fall already, but the temperatures still haven’t quite gone down and he’s suffocating in his coveralls. Zipping his front open, he breathes in relief as some of the passing breeze cools his skin, and he notices Castiel raise an eyebrow at him from his side. 

The silence between them is awkward so Dean is the one to break it. 

“You here on business?” he asks gruffly. If he remembers right, Novak Industries is in California, a couple hours away from Stanford where Sam is. 

“No, actually,” Castiel still sounds uptight and stiff. “Personal business…” he hesitates, and Dean’s annoyed with the way his wolf hangs on to the man’s every word. “It’s a family vacation,” he says finally. 

“Wait…” Dean says slowly. “You… have a daughter, am I right? Single parent?” he recalls that being a thing with the media - a single dad to an adopted little girl, with no girlfriend or boyfriend in sight, taking on both the nurture of a baby as well as a new company at the same time. 

“Yes,” Castiel is obviously uncomfortable with discussing it, but Dean stops short, and stares at him incredulously. 

“You left your kid sitting in the car alone?” he demands. 

Castiel purses his lips and glares back at him. “I’m not an idiot,” he retorts. “My daughter isn’t alone - I came with my dad and my assistant, and she’s with them currently, grabbing lunch while I get the car fixed.” 

Dean blinks. “You brought your  _ assistant  _ on a family vacation?” he asks, confused. 

Castiel sighs, rolling his eyes. “She’s more of a sister, actually,” he answers. “Though I don’t think it’s actually any of your business.” 

Dean flinches at the cold tone. 

“Yeah, sorry, man,” he says, walking down the road again. “Just… put my foot in my mouth,” he scratches the back of his neck self-consciously. 

Castiel tilts his head in acknowledgement but doesn’t respond. The awkward silence returns as they make their way to where the Jaguar sits, on the side of the road, empty and abandoned. Dean almost cries at the sight of it - beauty like her, she deserves more than being dumped to the side like this. 

He’s a fan of classic cars, but some of the modern ones are powerful, he admits.

Which is why he simply shrugs at Castiel’s raised eyebrow when he runs his hand over her hood. The CEO looks a little taken aback at the way he pats the car’s headlights, but Dean ignores him in favor of slapping his palms together and whistling softly. 

“Let’s take a look at her insides, shall we?” he says affectionately. 

*-*-*

Castiel steps back as Mr. Winchester pops the hood of his car open and bends over. His wolf is panting at the sight of his backside canted upwards, the gritty scent of happy omega filling the air. He breathes in deeply through his mouth, trying not to look at him. 

_ Dean Winchester,  _ he thinks, _ is the most beautiful man he’s ever met _ . Not only does he have the broadest shoulders Castiel’s seen in a while, accompanied by golden brown hair that hangs over his eyes, his scent is the most appealing thing he’s ever smelt. Like horses and leather, he is every cowboy wet dream Castiel has ever had since teenage. 

His eyes, though… Lord, but his eyes are as green as Emma’s own eyes, and he wants to grab the man by his open coveralls and smash their mouths together. 

His wolf wants to roll around with him and smother him in their scent - he rolls his eyes at the possessive growl it gives off, and stiffens his shoulders. It’s not just that Mr. Winchester is beautiful, it’s the way that the man isn’t afraid to back down despite their difference in status. The man was  _ angry  _ at Castiel for leaving the car on the road and he didn't hesitate to stand up to him. No one other than Charlie has done that in the recent years. 

Still, he doesn’t have the urge to chase that challenge to the bedroom, strip them raw and then roll around in the nest they make for them alone with her. 

He honestly doesn’t need this kind of attraction right now, not when the weird emails seem to be escalating in their tone. So far, it’s been nothing but the usual fan mail about him, but the fact that Charlie hasn’t been able to trace who’s sending the emails worries him - Charlie is, hands down, one of the most brilliant minds in the country. If  _ she  _ can't find the person sending him the strange emails…

He may have to get the authorities involved. 

Which is why he has no time for Dean Winchester’s lovely ass or his wonderful, perfect smell. His instincts are telling him to chase the omega, to make him his - those archaic conventions have given away to dating and mating, but he still has no plans to tie himself down any time soon. 

“Daddy!”

Particularly not with this little bundle racing up to him right now - Castiel isn’t just one person, he comes as a package deal. 

He learned soon after he took over Naomi’s former position that that meant shit to most people, that his money and influence were enough to pretend acceptance for Emma too. Luckily Emma was too small to remember Meg, but Castiel can recall every moment with heartbroken clarity, and he has no room to repeat that mistake. 

The mop of red hair collides with his legs and he chuckles, bending down to lift her up. Emma’s tiny fist smashes into his face happily and he  _ hmphs _ , rolling his eyes before offering her his neck to scent. 

“Emma Mary Shurley!” 

Charlie’s indignant voice calls from across the road, and he looks up to see the elder redhead racing towards them. Her hair - Castiel blinks at its short length, he still hasn’t gotten used to it - whips across her face as she glares up at where Emma’s buried her nose into his neck. 

From the corner of his eyes, he sees Mr. Winchester stiffen and straighten up, whirling around to face them. There’s a strange tinge to his scent, an acrid smell of worry and confusion, but Castiel pushes it away and looks to his pup. 

Emma’s sticking her tongue at her aunt, cuddling into his chest smugly. Castiel runs his hand through her long, red hair, noting absently that she needs trim soon, and turns to Charlie, who’s finally reached them. 

“You ran away from Auntie Charlie, didn't you?” he asks in a low voice, making sure to lace his voice with just the right amount of alpha strength so her wolf will feel compelled to answer. He doesn’t like doing it often, but clearly, running out on to a road like that is dangerous, and he has to address misbehavior as soon as he can. 

“Sorry Daddy,” she sounds contrite, to her credit. “Jus’ wanted to see you.” 

She nuzzles into his neck, pawing at his rough skin, and he rolls his eyes, well aware of her tricks by now. Before him, Charlie glares at the seven year old and reaches her arms out demandingly, eyes narrowing at her pout. 

“Gimme,” she says. Castiel shrugs and tries to untangle Emma from his shoulders, but his pup’s having none of it, winding her arms around him tighter. 

He can’t blame her really; Emma’s always been clingy - a side effect of the late imprinting of her birth - but ever since that night he came home, smelling worried and angry after that first harassing email, she’s refuses to let go of him. It’s as though her wolf smells his agitation and wants to offer him what comfort it can. 

“Emma,” he murmurs, “It’s alright, baby. We talked about this, remember?” 

“I stay with Auntie Charlie when you’re not here,” she recites, as they discussed just before they left. 

Behind them, Dean makes a strangled noise, and Castiel frowns, turning his attention back to the mechanic. Emma nuzzles into his neck and Charlie slips under his arm to tuck herself into his side as she always does in public. 

“Uh,” Dean’s voice is tight, his eyes focused on Emma’s face. “We need to tow her back - it’s gonna take a couple days to fix it.”

Castiel scowls. “Can it not be done earlier than that?” he insists, “Money is no issue, I-” 

“Not the cash, dude,” Dean interrupts. “It’s the model of your car… I need to order custom parts, and even if I put a rush on it, still won't be till tomorrow evening that we can get ‘em, and then I need to fix her up.” 

Castiel sighs and Emma giggles as the movement makes his side wiggle enough for her to feel it.

“Alright then,” he says wearily. 

“Guess I’m bookin’ us into a hotel tonight?” Charlie asks with one crimson eyebrow raised, her phone already out. 

“I  _ told  _ Dad it was a bad idea to take a roadtrip,” Castiel grumbles under his breath. “Where is he?” he turns to Charlie, who shrugs amusedly. 

“Still at the diner, last time I checked,” she replies. “He was flirting with the waitress. Your dad’s got game, Cas.” 

The alpha sighs in exasperation, about to turn back to Dean, when Emma makes a curious noise and leans out, wiggling her little nose. 

“You wolf!” she declared, pointing to Dean. 

The mechanic smiles tightly, offering her a nod. Castiel, mortified, shoots her hand down and shakes his head at her. 

“We don't point, Emma,” he says sternly. “It’s rude to point at someone.” 

“Dude,” Dean cuts in, “It’s alright.” 

There’s a strange bitterness to his scent, the leather and horse smell giving way to the acrid taste of tiredness, and he frowns at it, barely holding his tongue. He doesn't know Dean well enough to ask such personal questions, no matter how much his wolf whines at the unhappy smell. 

“What’d you say your name was again, kid?” he quizzes. 

Emma kicks Castiel lightly, indicating she wants to be put down, and he obeys, letting her go and setting her down on the ground carefully. Instantly, she runs up to Dean and tugs on his coveralls - he bends down and she pats his cheek, her wolf apparently accepting the strange man’s touch easily. 

Castiel blinks - it’s not strange for weres to connect quickly, but Emma’s always been more reticent than more pups, so this is unusual behavior. And judging from Charlie’s frown, she seems to agree. 

“I’m Emma Mary Shurley!” she chirps, “I’m seven years old. What about you, mister?” 

“Seven, huh?” if Castiel didn't know any better, he’d say that Dean almost sounds close to tears. “That’s a pretty name. I’m Dean, kiddo.”

“Can I call you Dee then?” she demands. 

Dean snorts in response, pulling his palm to his face to massage his temples and then his eyes. “Call me whatever you’d like,” he tells her. 

Abruptly, he turns to Castiel and says, “I’mma go call Rufus to get the tow truck. Come back in later to fill out the paperwork with Krissy - I’m heading back to the garage.” 

Before Castiel or Charlie can say anything else, he’s already on his way, striding out without another word. 

Charlie whistles. “Where’d you find that hunk, huh, Cas?” she smirks, elbowing him in the side. 

Castiel rolls his eyes, refusing to admit to the way his eyes track Dean’s backside as he walks away. 

“Shut up,” he retorts, picking up a pouting Emma and holding her close. “He’s just the mechanic.”

He would be able to ignore Charlie’s laugh if that doesn’t sound like a lie to his own ears. 

*-*-*

After dropping Emma off with Charlie with strict instructions to stay with her and not run out this time, Castiel heads back to the garage, humming softly. His wolf propels him forward eagerly, and he knows that if he were to Shift right now, his tail would be wagging happily. 

It’s at times like this he’s really glad Charlie insisted on wearing phero-suppressors. While it would have been impossible to keep his were identity a complete secret, he does need to watch his scent, particularly while dealing with other business executives that are also were. He’s sure she never thought it would come handy to keep his horny wolf in check, though he has a feeling she would approve. 

Snorting at his thoughts, he walks in to the garage, greeting the young girl - _ Krissy,  _ he recalls - with a small nod. She has the paperwork ready for him, and he quickly scans it before signing his name and handing the clipboard back to her. 

“Uh…” he clears his throat. “Where’s Mr. Winchester?” 

She raised one dark eyebrow. “In his office,” she answers, “Why, Mr. Shurley? Something  _ I  _ can’t help you with?” 

He flushes, ignoring the fact that her smirk entirely too reminiscent of Charlie’s. “I would like to speak to him, actually.” 

She chuckles, jerking her head back in the direction of Dean’s office, and he strides forward, refusing to give her titters any more thought than necessary. He knows she can smell his embarrassment from the way she giggles, but he shrugs it off - he’s a grown alpha, and if he wants to flirt with the handsome, gruff mechanic, he damn well will. 

Only, it’s not flirting that he gets when he reaches Dean’s office. 

He can hear the man’s agitation before he smells the pungent odor of it. Dean sounds angry, harried and so utterly broken, his wolf is instantly at attention, snarling at whoever dares to harm him. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Dad?!” he’s careful to keep his voice low, but his tone is utterly furious. “You decided to just  _ dump  _ her? You didn't-” 

He pauses, listening for just a second, before he hisses back, “You  _ asshole _ ! You had no right to make that choice for me - she’s  _ my  _ pup. I told you I wanted to keep her, I told you I didn’t give a fuck about what those sons of bitches said-” 

Silence again. 

The back of Castiel’s neck prickles. An old, distinct fear resurfaces in his gut, and he pushes it down - he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly worried, it doesn’t make any sense. 

His wolf growls and he ignores it, walking closer to the open doorway of Dean’s office and hovering there. The owner of the garage has his back turned to him, but his shoulders are shaking and Castiel can see the way he holds his phone tightly, as though he might snap it at any second. 

“Damn you, you son of a bitch! You told me she was  _ dead _ !” Castiel startles, because Dean’s clearly stopped worrying about keeping quiet. “I’ve mourned her for seven years, Dad! Because you had a goddamned  _ gravestone  _ labeled Emma Mary Winchester, and I’ve been praying to an empty coffin for almost a decade, you fucking son of a  _ bitch _ !” 

Dean jams his thumb against his screen and then throws the phone at the wall opposite him, roaring in frustration. 

Castiel freezes. 

Seven years of mourning his dead daughter. 

_ Emma Mary Winchester.  _

Dean’s strange expression when he saw Emma, the acrid tiredness and bitterness of his scent at meeting her…

_ It can’t be.  _

The mechanic turns around, quiet tears wetting his cheeks, and Castiel sees the same, bloodshot green eyes that his pup peers at him through when she’s throwing a tantrum and wants something desperately. 

“Ca-Castiel,” Dean stutters, startled to see him. “That wasn’t… you didn't…” he fumbles for words, unable to say anything. 

Castiel does the only thing he can think of - he turns around and flees. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

“Dammit,” Dean swears, staring at the space that Castiel was just standing in. His phone lies at his feet, shattered into pieces, and suddenly, the world is too small for him to breathe, his chest tight and his blood pounding through his ears. 

_Emma Mary Winchester…_ **_Shurley_** now. 

It took just one look at her - one look, for him to identify her instantly. She’s the spitting image of her mother, though Abbadon’s red hair sits on a much kinder, much sweeter face as she stared at him curiously from the safe space of her father’s arms - a father who  _ isn’t  _ him. 

He wanted to know what color her eyes were… he didn't expect her to have inherited  _ his _ . 

It hurts.

_ Son of a bitch, _ it hurts. 

For seven whole fucking years, he’s mourned her. He goes to her grave every goddamned Sunday like others go to Church; he speaks to her, tells her of his week, and tells her how much he misses and loves her. 

For seven years, he’s kept up this ritual. And apparently, for seven years, he’s been talking to an empty fucking coffin, to the air and the trees, because Emma Mary is  _ alive  _ \- his  _ pup  _ is alive, has been all this time. 

If only Castiel didn’t keep his private life so intensely private that few pictures of her existed online… if only he was smart enough to pay attention to the news and find out what was happening in the world… 

If only he wasn’t  _ stupid  _ enough to take John at his word when he found out that his Dad buried his pup without even letting Dean see her… 

His wolf whines at the thought and honestly, all he wants to do is just curl up and cry. Instead, he sniffs out Castiel’s scent - a part of him wonders if he was attracted to the scent of his daughter that he can clearly pick out on the man, or if he actually liked the man himself. 

Whatever the reason, he needs to speak to him. He has no idea how to process this, how to accept the fact that his baby  _ is  _ alive, but she’s not  _ his  _ anymore - he needs to speak to Castiel. 

So he races out of the door, following the scent of him out of the garage. Rufus, Jo and Krissy yell at him as he passes by, their worried voices calling after him, but he ignores them, chasing after Castiel, who has already disappeared. 

Castiel could take Emma away a second time - he could lose her again, only this time it would be entirely his fault. The last time, John did it, but this time… this time,  _ Dean  _ would be the one dumb enough to have held her in his arms and then let her go without even telling he loved her. 

Son of bitch, his pup is  _ alive _ . 

He lets his instinct take over. _ Protectprotectprotect _ pounds through his veins and he runs, almost blindly, after Castiel - he needs to tell him - needs to see her - needs to scent and touch and pet her - 

_ He needs his pup -  _

He stops short. 

Because right there, in front of him, laughing and yelling loudly is Emma Mary. 

She isn’t alone.  

Castiel Shurley is throwing her up into the air and pulling her close to him, letting her scent him and scenting her back in return. Behind them, another redhead - Charlie, Dean vaguely recalls - is giggling and taking a picture, and he sees another man, shorter than Castiel, much older with greying hair shaking his head at them fondly. 

And it hits him like a bucket of ice cold water dumped on his head. 

Emma  _ has  _ a family - she’s got a pack already. 

She’s seven years old, which means that she must have had her first Shift by now. She has a Dad, an Aunt, and from the looks of it, a Grandpa, and she’s happy with them. 

_ She doesn’t need him.  _

Emma Mary is not a Winchester. Maybe she never was. 

She’s not the pup he lost. 

His wolf whines and he wonders whimsically if it can feel the way his heart shatters, the fury and the urgency just fading away into numbness. His legs are shaking and he can barely hold himself up, so he turns around and runs back, _ losslossloss  _ now thrumming beneath his skin. 

He can't go back to the garage and face the questions and the demands. Neither can he go home right now, because he’s sure his wolf will take over and rip John’s throat out. 

Right now… there’s only one thing he can think of doing. 

Without a second thought, he heads in the direction of Elmswood Park, where there’s a section cordoned off for weres alone. It takes him barely ten minutes to get there, and then, he’s stripping, throwing his clothes off into the wilderness, still shaking, running on pure instinct. 

His bones burn as they are reshaped into his animal form, but he welcomes the pain - it’s a pleasant distraction from the way his mind is bleeding with anxiety. 

And suddenly, the world is that much sharper, that much clearer and that much bigger as he peers out at it through his wolf’s senses. He takes a moment to whine and growl, to let out the frustration, before he bounds on his forelegs, chasing after the rabbit he can smell in the distance. 

With that, Dean’s lost to the wild. 

*-*-*

Castiel leaves his Dad in charge of Emma that night with a murmured request and a promise to tell him everything later. Chuck raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, instead distracting his granddaughter with a story, making sure she doesn’t continue to pout at her alpha daddy not putting her to sleep like usual. 

That taken care of, he heads into Charlie’s room, barely waiting for her call of “Come in!” before he’s striding inside, shoulders set and his jaw clenched. She takes in his tight expression and sets aside her laptop quickly, gesturing for him to sit next to her on the bed. His entire body is thrumming with tension - _ Dean Winchester _ is Emma’s omega father, and he doesn’t know how to process this information. 

Seven years ago, when he touched Emma, when he allowed her imprint upon him, when he took her to be his pup… he was stupid, so  _ utterly  _ stupid to not follow the paper trail and find out who her blood was, who the man who abandoned her actually was. 

Charlie had tried - she insisted on ensuring that the loan shark, Crowley’s schemes weren’t going to come back to bite them in the behind. But they did only the most basic of checks; that Emma’s omega dad didn't even allow her the safety of his touch convinced them that he didn't want her at all and wasn’t coming after her in the least. Add to that the fact that the man gave a fake name at the hospital and left no credit card trail, there wasn’t much to go on, and Castiel decided against using Charlie’s skills in less than legal means just to find a man who didn't want his pup - his wolf was ready to rip him apart for the abandonment and they’d both deemed it safer to not look for him at all. 

In retrospect, it was utterly naive of them to think that. Because it wasn’t that Dean  _ didn't  _ want her. He didn't  _ know  _ she was alive at all. 

For seven years, he’s thought her to be dead, and he’s  _ mourned  _ her. 

And now he knows her. 

Castiel’s wolf is snarling at the thought that someone might be after their pup; just until a few hours ago, Dean was a potential mate, his omega pheromones the most delicious thing he’d ever smelled. Now, he is an interloper, and all Castiel wants to do was to throw himself at the omega and snarl until he has his submission. 

Charlie reaches out and gently drags him close to her, wrapping her arms around him. Her skin is soft to the touch and the familiar scent of her soothes his irate wolf. She hums, low and warm, and her chest rumbles from the sound. He relaxes into her side nuzzling into her shoulder, grateful that she can sense his irritation even before he tells her. 

It takes a long, uncomfortable ten minutes of breathing in sync together before he finally looks up, the tension bleeding out of his skin. 

“Better?” she murmurs and he sighs, sitting up and massaging his temples. The anger and worry from before has turned into a pounding headache, and though he does feel better than he did, he’s also tired and drained. 

“Thank you,” he sighs. 

Silence falls between them for the space of a few heartbeats before Charlie breaks it. 

“Wanna tell me why you’re wound up so tight?” 

“I…” he doesn’t know what to say. 

How do you tell your best friend/assistant/pseudo-sister that you just found your pup’s biological father? How does he convince himself that Dean won't want to take her away, that he’s not going to be an ashole about it? 

He doesn’t know. 

“I need to you to pull up some information from me,” he says finally. She raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment, simply waiting for him to finish. “On Dean Winchester.” 

“From the garage?” she frowns. 

Castiel nods. 

“I need to find out everything you can about Dean and his family,” he says firmly. Restless again, he jumps to his feet, pacing across her floor like a madman. 

“I can make the computer sing and dance for you, but why?” she demands. “His garage’s got a good review on their website, and I did a preliminary check on him when you sent the car over - he’s legit, Cas, he ain’t gonna swindle your cash-”

“It’s not about the cash,” he cuts her off. “Or the car.” 

He doesn't even like his Jaguar all that much. That car was a splurge, on Chuck’s part - well, Chuck and Emma, both of whom were almost uncontrollably trigger happy when they were given a credit card. 

“Then what-”

“Please, Charlie,” he interrupts. “Just… get me everything you can on Dean. And his family. I need to know.” 

“How deep do you want me to go?” she huffs. “Facebook level background or you want credit cards and bank statements of the not so legit channels?” 

“All the way,” he tells her. “I want everything.” 

She blinks, taken aback. “Cas,” she says unsurely, “What’s goin’ on?” 

He shrugs. “Maybe nothing, maybe something. That’s why I need to know.” He turns around, meets her worried hazel gaze squarely and pleads. “Please, Red.” 

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Fine, fine. Don't gimme that puppy look,” she grumbles. Castiel walks back to her and drops a kiss on her forehead, chest swelling with gratitude. 

“I’ll tell you everything soon,” he say softly. “Just… I need a run, and after that, okay?” 

Because he’s itching to let go, itching to let his wolf out and just rip into something. He needs the clarity of his fur, needs the sense of rightness that comes with being an animal in the woods - and he knows Charlie will get it. 

Her face softens and she jerks her head towards the door. 

“Go on,” she mutters under her breath. “Get some air. I’ll have it ready when you get back.” 

Dropping another kiss on her forehead, Castiel strides out of the room, bypassing Emma’s smaller room, where he can hear Chuck reading to her. He hovers there for a moment, just listening to her soft giggles and his own Dad’s warm chuckles, his heart aching, before he whirls around on one foot and heads into the hotel’s lobby. 

Within moments, he’s gotten the information he needs - around here, Elmwood Park is where most weres go if they need a run. He pulls up the route on his phone and races out of the hotel, heading straight there. 

*-*-*

He’s been running for maybe half an hour when he smells it, a hint of fresh pine and thunderstorms that has encroached his territory. Dean growls; Elmswood Park maybe open to all the local weres, but each of them has marked their own territory and he does not like an out-of-town were jumping in. 

He’s about to pounce, readying himself to growl the intruder away, when he catches it - the briefest whiff of lemonade and citrus that he’s smelled only once, earlier today, and wanted to wrap himself in forever and ever. 

_ Emma.  _

His pup. 

The wolf in front of him is big, bigger even than Dean, who is a surprisingly large size for an omega. He’s a pure, dark black - a rare breed of wolf - but those eyes are still that same, piercing blue, as they widen and then snarl at Dean in retaliation. 

_ Fuck.  _

Dean holds back a whine at the sight of him, sniffing deeply. He can  _ smell  _ her, can smell his pup, and smell the way her scent twines with the alpha’s own pine and thunderstorms. He wants to join it, he thinks, wants to roll around together, until all three scents are mingled together, until they’re one, single entity. 

Castiel growls back, posturing and snarling, and Dean’s eyes narrow at him. 

That’s how he wants to play it then? 

Dean maybe an omega, but he’s no pushover. So he darts forward, sniffs at Castiel’s startled snout and then darts away, throwing a challenging look back at the alpha. He’s baiting him, he knows, but right now, he couldn't care less. 

Castiel growls and then pounces after him. Dean rolls out of the way, sniffing him again before running, and the alpha follows, chasing him through the woods. 

It’s been a while, this kind of a run and a chase that gets his blood pumping. Running with Jo or Krissy, or even Sam really, doesn’t quite have the same edge of adrenalin to it as running with another alpha does.

John would hate how improper this is, but for the first time since this morning, Dean feels like he can breathe, as though everything will be okay at the end of this run. His blood is pumping through his veins, and he knows it won't take much before he’s wet and dripping and presenting to Castiel. He doesn’t want to admit how much he likes that thought. 

Growling, he lets his instinct take over, leading the alpha through the woods. He doesn’t want to think right now, doesn’t want to introspect - he wants instinct and challenge and for the world to fall away. So fuck it, if this is what it takes, he’ll do it. 

Castiel doesn’t falter, giving as good as he gets. He chases Dean single-mindedly, sniffing out his trail and his scent, despite the advantage Dean has at knowing the Park like the back of his hand. This is his territory and yet, the alpha navigates it easily. 

Jesus, he’s impressive. 

But Dean’s got one more card left to play. 

Castiel wants a challenge? 

Dean will show the damned alpha a challenge. 

_ Come at me, alpha,  _ he thinks smugly, and sniffs at the path, picking out the route to the graveyard easily. 

Castiel Shurley is going to have to prove to be worthy of being his pup’s alpha. _ And, _ a traitorous part of Dean’s mind whisper,  _ maybe his own alpha too?  _

*-*-*

Castiel has never felt this kind of high, ever. It's been years since he was on a chase - Emma's too small for it to be anything more than just a playgame, and Chuck's become too old to really run any more. Even then, neither of them could give him the kind of challenge he craves; Dean, on the other hand...

By the Lord, the omega is perfect. 

He whines softly, scenting out that leather and horses smell, pouncing behind on the trail the other wolf has left behind. His tail is wagging, and he knows -  _ knows  _ \- that it won't take much for his excitement to turn into arousal, but he keeps that in conscious check, forcing himself to bury his mating instincts further. 

But that doesn't mean he's giving in to Dean. He chases the omega through the woods, refusing to admit just how much he likes this, how much he - 

Dean bursts out of the woods and into a clearing and Castiel follows, growling low in his throat. 

The dark, green smell of the woods becomes much fainter, new scents of stone and granite replacing them. He stops short of pouncing on the tawny wolf in front of him, eyes narrowing at the way Dean pads towards the grave at the very edge of the cemetery, turning his back on the alpha deliberately. His challenging stance fades away, and the sudden whine shocks Castiel, who can't help the small cry that escapes his own lips in response. 

By the time he's made his way to the grave, Dean's already made the Shift back into his human form. He sits in front of it, on his knees, naked and vulnerable, leaning foward to run his hand over the stone. 

_ Emma Mary Winchester.  _

Just the sight of his pup's name - carved beautifully on to the marble and glinting in the dying sunlight - makes him whine again. He has to remind himself that Emma is alive, that she didn't die, that she's here and she's his. 

Stiffening at the reminder of the fact that his pup isn't just his own, he arches his back and lets loose an angry howl. For just a while, he was able to forget, able to let the restless energy from the day go - with the same man who was the cause of it in the first place. 

He needs to watch himself. 

Growling, he bends his body forward, feeling his bones pop as he Shifts back into his human form. 

"I didn't even get to see her before my dad put her down." 

Dean's voice sounds distorted through the Shift, and Castiel doesn't respond, moving back to stand up on shaky feet. He looks down, eyeing the omega carefully with a frown, but Dean's staring at the stone, his expression unreadable. 

"And now I know why," he snorts, turning to Castiel. Without another word, he gets to his feet and the alpha averts his eyes, suddenly conscious of their nudity in a way he's never been with anyone else before. Dean's form - both as human and as wolf - is beautiful, but his attraction to the man can have no place here. 

Dean could take Emma away. 

"Mr. Winchester," he says in a low tone, "What are you-"

"You can relax," Dean says sharply. "I'm not gonna take her away from you." 

Castiel blinks. "How did you-?" he stammers. 

"Phero-suppressor’s worn off," he shrugs. Castiel sighs, irritatedly rubbing his eyes as he continues, "I can smell your suspicion. Doesn't take a genius to figure out what's got you worried."

"I met you barely a few hours ago," Castiel points out tightly. "It wouldn't be the first time someone's tried to get to my money through my pup." 

Dean whirls around on his so fast, he almost worries about his neck getting sprained. 

"Someone's  _ hurt  _ her?" he snarls, baring his teeth and posturing. 

Instinct has Castiel snarling back against the omega before he can stop himself. For a moment, they stand, suspended, snarling at one another, ready to pounce, both their wolves angry and territorial. 

Dean is the one to step away first. 

Castiel blinks again as he moves back and curls over the headstone, draping his upper body over the headstone and sighing deeply. There is a bone-deep weariness to his voice and his stance, and the alpha feels his anger fade at the sight of it. 

"Sorry, man," the mechanic says. "Just..." 

"Mr. Winchester," Castiel mutters. "Perhaps we should..." he waves a hand between them awkwardly, gesturing to their state of undress and the headstone itself. "We must talk." 

"Can we go to your place?" Dean asks gruffly. He must have seen the way Castiel suddenly tenses, because he adds quickly, "Jesus, I told you. I'm not gonna take her away from you. It's just... my dad's at my place, and if it's all the same to you, I'd really rather not see his ugly mug right now. I might just rip his throat out."

The last part is delivered with a snarl that Castiel snorts at. Silence falls between them, Dean eyeing him warily, before Castiel finally makes up his mind and offers him a quick nod. 

"Alright, Mr. Winchester," he says. "We will go to my hotel. But," he peers out sternly, sinking every bit of alpha he can into his voice, "We stay in my room, and you don't come near Emma until -  _ if  _ \- I say so." 

Dean straightens up, and Castiel has to remind himself to look only at his face. 

"Sure," he drawls, meeting his gaze squarely, refusing to back down from the alpha's challenge. "And my name's Dean, not Mr. Winchester." 

Before Castiel can respond, he's already Shifted and bounded away. Growling under his breath, the alpha Shifts and follows him, casting one last glance at the headstone for a pup who is still alive. 

*-*-*

It doesn't take long for them to get to the edge of the Park. Castiel doesn't say anything as he follows Dean into the cabin to grab his clothes off of the locker he'd dumped them in. They both get dressed in silence, heading out of the park and towards the hotel. 

Dean won't even look at him in the interim period. Castiel can't blame him; he's wound just as tight, unable to think of anything to say that might break the tension that hangs heavy in the air between them. 

The sudden ping of a phone startles them both. Castiel is almost surprised at the way his pocket vibrates before he yanks it out to see Charlie's face flashing across his screen. He cuts the call, though, not quite willing to speak to his assistant yet. She's going to be there at the hotel anyway, and it feels wrong to talk about Dean - what else would she wanna talk about right now? - behind his back. Or in front of it, in this case. 

"That your assistant?" Dean asks, his tone stilted and awkward. 

"Yeah," he mutters back. "No point in taking it, we're headed back in any case." 

"You're close to her." It isn't a question, but Castiel finds himself nodding along anyway. 

"She's practically my sister," he answers. "Do you..." he clears his throat, "Do you have any siblings?" 

_ Uncles or aunts for Emma?  _

It hangs in the air between them, unsaid but heavy. 

Dean's expression, however, turns proud. It reminds Castiel of the photo of himself and Emma that Charlie snapped soon after she made her first Shift - his chest was swollen with pride and affection for his pup as he cradled her close to him then. 

"A brother," Dean replies. "Sam. Four years younger, he's at Stanford Law." 

"Quite the achievement," Castiel says. "I'm Harvard alum myself, but I've given a number of lectures and workshops there. Good school… expensive though." 

There's a question there, but Dean doesn't answer it and Castiel doesn't push. Much as he wants to know everything about his daughter's other dad, he has no right to Dean's personal information. 

They're at the lobby of his hotel already, he notes with some surprise, as they walk towards the elevator. Dean strides forward with no hesitance and Castiel follows. They've gone silent again and for the life of him, he can't think of a way to break it - Dean's scent is tight, hesitant and angry, and he's sure his isn't any better. 

He's barely out of the elevator before Charlie is on him. She's glaring, arms crossed across her chest, and just as she opens her mouth - to yell at him, no doubt - her eyes fall on Dean behind him. 

She stares, unabashedly, for a long second, before whirling on one foot to Castiel and snarling. His wolf whips his tail, amused and pleased at her deference to him, and he rolls his eyes at his beast, focusing on his assistant. 

"Really, Cas?" she snaps. "You hang up on me and then yank your pup's biological father to your  _ bedroom _ ? Merlin's pants, you've got better sense than this!" 

He's not surprised she's already figured it out. Charlie is the best at what she does - the only reason she's held back from tracing Emma's lineage for so long is because he expressly forbade her before now. 

"Merlin's pants?" Dean snorts. "Really?" 

She whips her head back to glare at him. "I will have security dump you on your ass outside right now," she hisses. "I don't take kindly to threats against my niece." 

Anyone else would've stepped down immediately - Charlie Bradbury on a rampage is terrifying - but Dean simply smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

"Good," he says firmly. "I'm glad Emma has someone like you to look up to."

Charlie blinks, pausing, and Castiel snorts against himself. There aren't many people who can keep his whirlwind of an assistant on her toes. 

"What do you want?" she finally asks, moving in front of Cas. He reaches out to pull her close and she lets him, tucking herself under his arm. Dean's eyes track the movement, but he doesn't comment, instead choosing to meet her gaze squarely. 

"Look," he sighs. "I'm not here to hurt or take Emma away. I just..." he gestures aimlessly, and Castiel sniffs the slightest reek of bitterness and anguish from him. 

That's what convinces his wolf that Dean isn't a threat - even when he's got the chance, he isn't even demanding to  _ see  _ his pup. He's mourned her for seven years, but now, he's deferring to the fact that it's  _ Castiel  _ who's raised her for those seven years, that Castiel has as much as - maybe even more than - a claim to her as he does. 

So he gently steers Charlie back into their room, and pats her shoulders. 

"It's alright," he says softly. "Let's just hear him out." 

She frowns, opening her mouth to argue, but he glares at her, and she subsides. She doesn't leave them alone though, stomping over to his room and plopping herself on his bed, shrugging at Dean's questioning look. 

"Talk," she says tersely. "Before I get my taser and knock you out cold." 

Dean snorts. "That's assuming you'll get a shot in," he points out. 

"I take out shadow orcs and unhorse knights on a regular basis," she snaps back. "You really think one rogue wolf is gonna be a problem for me?" 

"You...what?" 

Charlie rolls her eyes. "LARPing," she waves her hand carelessly. "And cosplaying. Plebeians," she murmurs under her breath. 

Dean's smile is sudden and surprising as he shoots what Castiel recognizes as a Vulcan salute at her. "You should join me and mine at the Seattle Con this year," he intones. "We're cosplaying the cast of Dr. Sexy." 

Charlie pauses again, eying him suspiciously. "Huh," she says. "You're..." she flails her hand about again, unable to say anything else and Castiel chuckles. 

"I don't think I've ever seen her speechless," he waggles his eyebrows at the redhead who huffs. 

"Shut up," she mumbles. "You," she turns to Dean again, "Talk. Cas, come here." 

She offers her arms out, a knowing expression on her face, and he finds himself grateful that she can read him so well. Quickly shedding his coat and his shirt, he strips to a single tank top before joining her on the bed and pulling her into his lap. She curls into his side, tucking her head below his chin as they both turn expectantly to Dean, who's watching them with a strangely hungry expression on his face. 

"Maybe you...uh..." he scratches the back of his head nervously, and Castiel should not find that so endearing. "You go first? How'd you adopt her?" 

"Picked her up from the Kids' Home you dumped her in," Charlie says snidely. 

"Charlie!" Castiel snaps. 

Dean looks like he's been slapped, his scent turning acrid with bitterness. "I didn't dump her," he whispers.  _ His hands are shaking, _ Castiel notes, but before he can say anything, the omega is snarling again, his eyes suspiciously glassy. " _ I  _ didn't dump her," he repeats, more forcefully this time. "My dad took her from me - son of a bitch told me she was dead." 

"Well, shit," Charlie has the grace to look contrite at least. She pats Castiel's shoulder warily, and he realizes that he's been growling low in his throat. 

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "Sorry, Dean," she says a little louder for him to hear. "I just... I’m protective." 

Dean swallows, nodding his head shakily. 

"I actually saw her the day she was born," Castiel speaks up. A pair of reddened green eyes snap to him, and he smiles at the omega, seeing his pup peeking out from behind that face for just an instant. 

"You were at the hospital?" Dean whispers. 

He nods. "My uh..." it's his turn to swallow, memories of Naomi and her letter and her prone form returning with a vengeance. Charlie squeezes him understandingly, and he breathes in deeply, taking in the familiar, comforting scent of her before continuing. 

"My mom was in an accident a couple days before that," he says. "She was brain-dead. We had to pull the plug, but I was waiting for my Dad to come before we could." 

"Sorry to hear that, man," Dean offers. 

"Thank you," Castiel smiles wanly. "I saw Emma's grandfather... you father?" he doesn't comment on Dean's carefully nonchalant shrug, "I saw your father arguing with the nurse about checking you both out AMA." 

"Son of a..." Dean curses. 

"I scented her," Castiel offers. "Just for a second. It gave me the strength to do what I had to." 

"She has that effect on people," Dean mutters. There's a story there, and Castiel wants to know it. But he doesn't push, instead offering the omega a smile and a nod. 

"Indeed. She knows how to make herself heard. First time I saw her properly," Castiel reminisces, "She was screaming her lungs off because she still hadn't imprinted and wanted someone to hold." 

Dean stiffens. "She didn't imprint immediately?" he asks, his voice strained.

Castiel shares a wary look with Charlie before shaking his head. "She imprinted on me," he says finally, "But it was about four days after her birth." 

"She... no one touched her for  _ four  _ days?" 

The snarl is back on Dean's face, his wolf raging that his pup was harmed so badly. Castiel's own wolf is whining at the sight of the omega's distress and he wants to reach out and soothe the man instantly. Since he can't, he tightens his grip around Charlie - a move that does not go unnoticed since the redhead shoots him a startled look. She doesn't comment when he shakes his head lightly, but the frown on her face tells him that they will be talking about it later. 

"The humans at the children's home were aware of how important that first touch is to were pups," Castiel says. "They did not want to take the chance that she would imprint upon them." 

"Douche-nozzles," Charlie grumbles. But Dean doesn't smile; if anything, he looks paler, his scent turning from angry to bitter and tired. 

"She was...  _ is  _ his granddaughter," he hisses. "And he just..." he jumps to his feet and stomps over to where Castiel's balcony doors are open, his shoulders shaking. Charlie untangles herself from the alpha, who follows her as they both step out on to the balcony with the omega. 

"Mr. Winchester," she says softly. "Look, I... we got off on the wrong foot. But dude, you can't blame yourself for a decision you never made. It wasn't on you."

Dean makes a strangled sound that is a cross between a laugh and a sob. Instinctively, Castiel reaches out to him and Charlie steps away without prompting. He finds himself grateful that she knows were culture well enough not to question it - he doesn't think his wolf will stand to watch Dean in discomfort any longer. 

"She's my pup," Dean murmurs. "And I didn't... I can't... she thinks I abandoned her." 

" _ Did _ you?" Castiel asks. He knows it's a low blow, knows that she was taken from Dean without his consent, but he needs to know the full truth before he can think of letting his pup anywhere near him. 

Dean pulls away as if burned and glares at him, snarling. "I took you to her  _ grave _ !" he snaps. "I've spent every goddamned Sunday there, you really think I would abandon her?" 

Castiel doesn't back down, though his own shoulders straighten in an answering snarl. 

"And if you knew?" he challenges. "If you'd been awake for the birth... if you were going to be a single omega dad, or if you'd found out that she was still alive, what would you have done, Dean?" 

Because as much as Castiel hurts for Dean's anguish, his pup is his first priority. She has to be - she's innocent, she didn't ask for any of this. 

Dean deflates, looking away. For a long moment, he doesn't say anything, fists clenching and unclenching, before he finally turns back to Castiel and sighs. 

"If I'd known," he says in a low voice, "what that son of a bitch had done... I'd have gone after her the day I woke up. I'd have left everything -  _ everything  _ \- behind for her." 

"And now?" Charlie speaks up. Dean's eyes flicker over to her. 

"Now," he whispers. "She ain't mine anymore, is she?" 

There's a broken sob at the end of that sentence, and Charlie leans over to pat his shoulder gently. 

"Who's her alpha dad, Dean?" she asks. Her tone is still guarded, but her eyes are soft, and Castiel knows she's as taken with the omega as he himself is. 

"Mom," Dean corrects. "One-night stand. Wasn't gonna work, but I wanted to keep her anyway." 

"Even knowing what you face as a single omega dad?" Castiel asks. 

Dean shrugs in response. "Never cared much for those stupid rules," he answers. "Own my own business and the mortgage on my house is paid off. And I got friends to help me raise her." 

"But she'd face trouble in public," Castiel points out. "Without an alpha to her name, she could be singled out and bullied." 

"Ain't her fault," Dean shoots back. "I'd'a taught her that, taught her that we don't  _ need  _ to no alpha to be ourselves. That's a shitty reason to be with someone anyway, just for the name... if we had an alpha, it'd be because we loved him or her. I was gonna teach her that." 

Castiel feels the breath leave him, the anxiety melting away with it. He's still on his guard, still cautious, but his wolf has stopped feeling the need to rip Dean apart. 

Of course that means the omega is back in the possible-mate column, so he's not sure if that's any better. 

"You still can," he murmurs. 

Dean's face whips around to stare at him, those familiar green eyes widening in shock. 

"What?" he whispers. 

"Cas," Charlie begins, but he stalls her with his hand. 

"You could still teach her that she doesn't need an alpha to be her own person," Castiel repeats. "I'm not... I can't..."

The words are stuck in his throat and he doesn't know how to get them out. Castiel isn't the most verbose - fight an omega, protect his territory, he can, but "his people skills" as Charlie puts it, are rusty. 

There's a reason she's the one who deals with the social part of running a billion-dollar company. 

"Dude, you can't... I can't take her away from you," Dean stammers. He stiffens, his eyes narrowing. "You don't want her?" there's a hint of aggression in his tone. 

"Don't be absurd," Castiel rolls his eyes. "She's  _ my  _ pup, biology be damned. But..." he looks up, "She's yours as well, apparently. And I cannot in good conscience deny her the right to know her omega father. Why does it have to be a choice between us?" 

"Careful there, buddy, sounding like you're proposin’ there," Dean drawls in a sultry tone. 

Charlie snorts from beside him, smirking at Castiel's slow flush as the implications of his own statement hit him. 

"Excuse him, he has no verbal filter," she digs her elbow into his side. "Unless, of course, you do want a little... under the hood action, Cassie?" 

Dean hoots out a laugh, and despite his own embarrassment, Castiel's wolf lolls about in excitement at the sound of it. 

"Not what I meant and you know that," Castiel drags Charlie against him, ignoring her little yelp before. Turning back to Dean, he continues, "I just meant that you could get to know her too, spend some time with her, be a part of her life." 

"And you'd be okay with that?" Dean's brow climbs above his forehead and Castiel shrugs in response. 

"You didn't deserve to lose your pup like that, Dean," he says. "If I can help, I'd like to." 

"I don't need you to be my alpha knight in armor," he answers sharply. 

"I'm not," Castiel shoots back. "I'm not doing this because I want something from you, I'm doing it because it's the right thing to do - for Emma." 

"Will you tell her? That I'm her omega father?" 

Castiel pauses. A part of him wants to say yes immediately - he's never lied to his pup before, never hidden anything from her. She knows she's adopted, but that's never been an issue between them because she imprinted on him and they've never once looked back. 

"That's your call," he says finally. "I would prefer to be honest, but if you're not comfortable with that idea..." 

"If she finds out later that you didn't tell her," Charlie protests, "that could be-" 

"I'll tell her," Dean interrupts. "You're right," he nods at Charlie, "she deserves to know and I should be the one to tell her. But..." he turns back to Castiel, "I'd like to get to know her first? Spend some time with her before... before she realizes I'm the dad that abandoned her." 

"It wasn't your fault," Castiel replies automatically. 

The sardonic smile Dean offers him hurts. "I know my Dad," he mutters. "I shoulda seen that he'd do somethin' like this." 

"Fine," Charlie huffs, "If you both are sure about this... I'mma handle the public side of things. Dean," she levels him with a warning look, "I understand that this is important to both of you, but we need to be careful. The press gets wind of this and we're screwed." 

For a long moment, Dean simply stares out the balcony and down at the pool below. And then, he squares his shoulders and takes in a deep breath, jerking his head at the two of them in a quick nod. 

"Yeah," he says. "Let's do it. Emma's safety is top priority.  I'll be careful... I just want her to know that if wants me... she's got me. Always." 

He looks straight at Castiel when he says it. His heart jumps, his wolf whining pathetically, and that's when he knows he's in trouble. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The loud tring of the phone wakes him up and Dean reaches over Jo's small form to grab the damn thing. Jo groans, swatting at his face blearily, and he drops a quick kiss on her forehead, pulling her closer, before sliding it open to answer the call. 

"Allo?" he mumbles, running a hand absently through her long hair as Jo buries her face into his neck. 

"Mr. Winchester?" 

Dean shoots up at the sound of Castiel's rough voice, Jo falling to the floor in an uncharitable heap. She yelps, sitting up to glare at him, but he ignores her and swallows, trying to stop his heart from beating out of its damned chest. 

"Mr. Shurley," he greets, as calmly as he can. Jo's eyes widen and she crawls closer, leaning her head against his shoulder to offer comfort. He came over here straight from Shurley's room last night and ended up spilling everything - his wolf was in serious need of pack bonding, and she didn't hesitate, wrapping herself around him and letting him sleep on her through the night. 

"Castiel, please," the man says. 

"Then I'm Dean," he answers. 

"Dean," Castiel says pleasantly. "Will you be busy at the garage today?"

"Only workin' on your car today," Dean shrugs, "Why?"

"Well, Emma and I were wondering if you'd like to join us for breakfast," there's a stiffness to Castiel's tone, but dude doesn't sound like he's annoyed or angry, just awkward. "And then," he continues, "I thought we might spend the day at the Park... Emma hasn't Shifted since we left home, and I can smell her getting antsy." 

"Restless, is she?" Dean chuckles. 

"Indeed." 

"Alright then," Dean whistles, "I'll meet you at Benny's diner - it's the Cajun place close to your hotel."

"Are you certain you take the time off?" 

"Dude, I'm the boss," he snorts. "And my mechanics have been bugging me to take time off since I'm always up in their spaces." 

"Okay," Castiel hums. "We shall see you there."

"See you." 

Jo raises an eyebrow at him, reaching out to grab his hand and twine their fingers together. 

"You alright?" she asks softly, nuzzling into his neck and scenting him. 

Dean sighs, pulling her close. She was utterly livid last night, her wolf ready to go charging off to challenge John for what he's done. She still smells angry and pissed but she's directed that energy into comforting him instead of confronting his dad. 

"I'm good, kiddo," he murmurs, offering her a wan smile. "Just... tired, is all." 

"You want me to come with?" 

He shakes his head. "Best not to overwhelm her," he says. She eyes him for a long moment, reading between the lines - he wants his first meeting with his pup to be one-on-one, just for him. 

Unlike Sam, Jo knows when not to push. So she sighs, rolls her eyes and nods, dropping a kiss on his cheek and cuddling closer. 

"Kay," she mumbles into his neck. "But only if I get to prank call John later." 

He chuckles, rubbing her back. 

"Whatever you say, kiddo," he murmurs. "Whatever you say." 

*-*-*

It isn't until he's in the shower that it hits him - he's going to see his pup. And, more than that, he's going to see her Shifted, run with her in the forest and maybe show her the territory he's marked as his own. 

How many times has he dreamed of doing this? How many times has he pictured running in the Park with her and Sam and Jo, showing her how to catch rabbit and to hunt? 

How many times has he woken up, screaming and crying and begging to let her death be a simple nightmare? 

And it was - just not the way he thought it would be. 

He's going to take her running, alright, only the alpha beside them isn't gonna be Sam, but her actual alpha father. Dean's wolf is prancing about in joy, the little shit, but he himself is a lot more reticent - sure, the alpha seemed level-headed and open-minded, but most alphas Dean's come across have internalized notions of what a "good omega" is. Even the most liberal ones don't really understand how good they have it - marriage, in most were culture, is pretty much how an omega's life goes. He's been bull-headed about it his whole life; no knothead was gonna tell him how to live. 

The only difference is, the knothead is now his pup's father, and he has no legal claim to her whatsoever. 

Dean doesn't know how to process. He thinks Castiel Shurley is a good alpha - he's seen the man, and the way Emma acts around him. She loves him and he loves her. Now Dean just needs to figure out where he fits in that equation. 

Sighing, he throws on his clothes and heads out, handing Jo the responsibility of running the garage today. She waves her hand at him absently, and he drops a quick kiss on her forehead before getting into his car and driving off to Benny’s diner. 

The burly man splits his time between his family establishment and Dean’s own garage, and he’s at the counter today, the mechanic sees as he walks inside. Benny raises a hand in greeting, hollering a quick welcome.

“Your table’s free, brotha!” he calls, “I’ll get your usual, go sit.” 

“Thanks, Benny,” Dean calls back and walks towards the corner table that is marked  _ Reserved _ . Sinking into the seat, he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply - the strong, spicy smells of Benny’s food are familiar and comforting. He’s twiddling his thumbs urgently, nervous energy spilling over, when tinkling peal of laughter attracts his attention. 

“Daddy!” 

Emma is squirming in Castiel’s grip as he tickles her, nuzzling his two-day stubble against her soft cheek. Dean’s heart jumps to his throat, his wolf wagging its tail at the sight of them. Castiel’s phero-suppressors are still back on, but Emma smells like freshly baked lemon meringue pie, and Dean wants to pull her close and never let her go. 

As though sensing his presence, she turns around and her green eyes -  _ his  _ eyes - widen almost comically. She sticks her hand out, narrowly avoiding Castiel’s face, and waves at him enthusiastically, kicking her legs against her dad as an indication that she wants to be let down. 

“Dee!” 

Damn, but the kid has a set of lungs on her. 

Against himself, Dean can feel his mouth curve up into a wide grin, and he waves back, gesturing for them to join him. Castiel’s sharp gaze rests on his face and he tries not to squirm at how utterly blue they are. His wolf is preening, the bastard, and he growls low in his throat, forcing back the attraction and trying to smile wanly at the billionaire. 

“Hey kiddo,” he greets as the redhead runs up to him. She pauses in front of his table, scrunching up her face in question, and he reads the slight shift in her scent as she stares up at him, tilting her head exactly like her dad. 

Winking at her, he bends down and opens his arms. She grins and jumps into them, nuzzling close and scenting his neck, and Dean’s heart leaps, tears stinging his eyes. The red hair tickles his nose and she’s so much bigger than he imagined when he pictured this exact scene, but it doesn’t matter, because she’s right  _ here _ . 

“Dee?” 

She scents his tears and draws back, a confused expression on her face. 

“Are you okay?” she frowns. 

“It’s okay,” he’ll never admit to sniffling. “I’m just… I’m happy, kiddo.” 

“You’re crying,” she pouts.

The look on her face is injured and annoyed, and she looks  _ so  _ like Sam right then, Dean can’t help the snort that escapes him.

“I’m good,” he assures her. “You, on the other hand… your face is gonna get stuck that way.” He pokes her and she squirms, glaring at him. 

“It is not,” she huffs. “No, uh- Dee, Dee, don’t,” she shrieks as he tickles her, “Daddy! Dee’s- hah- haha-”

Dean’s stomach should not flip-flop the way it does at Castiel’s slow grin. He rolls his eyes at his mentally preening wolf and winks at the CEO, finally settling Emma next to him. The bright smile on his pup’s face makes him want to hold her tight, but he reigns it in, swallowing hard. 

“Are you alright?” Castiel asks softly. With the phero-suppressor, Dean can’t use his smell to scent him, but he thinks he sees slight discomfort in the alpha’s eyes and the way he holds himself - it can't be easy on his wolf to see its pup be so affectionate with a random omega. 

“I’m good, man,” he murmurs. Looking down at Emma, he raises an eyebrow. “So what’ll you have for breakfast, kid?” he asks. 

“Apple Pie!” she yells in answer. 

Castiel’s groan indicates that this is regular occurrence, and that’s it, that’s the moment that it hits him. 

She’s here. She’s with him. 

She wants _ apple pie.  _

His pup - his beautiful, lost pup… she’s here. 

Damn if it isn't the most amazing thing in the world. 

*-*-*

Any last doubts  Castiel has about letting Dean meet Emma vanish the moment he watches the two of them interact at the diner. The mechanic is effortless with her, pinching her cheeks and feeding her apple pie, drawing loud shrieks and giggles from her. Her usual shy nature has somehow vanished now and he wonders if it’s because Dean’s her omega dad, or if it’s because he’s just naturally good with children. 

The diner itself seems to be part of the place that Dean’s marked as his territory; the lines for weres in the human world are arbitrary, of course, but Castiel can scent the way he’s calm and relaxed here in a way he wasn’t at the hotel last night. The owner is a friend of Dean’s as well, from the looks of it; the ease with which he jokes around with the omega has Castiel’s own alpha snarling possessively, and he has to force himself to calm down, grateful that Charlie insisted that he go back on phero-suppressors today. 

“Well?” Dean demands once they’re done with the food and are heading out. He waves a hand to Benny, and Castiel watches, distracted, as the burly man winks back at them before disappearing into the kitchen again. 

“Huh?” Castiel asks, confused. 

“I said, you ready to go running?” Dean smacks his arm absently, and then freezes, as though realizing what he’s done. 

“Uh, sorry, man,” he apologizes immediately, “I’m just used to… I, uh…” 

The red flush on his cheeks is entirely too endearing, and Castiel ignores the low swoop of desire in his belly as he tilts his head. Emma is clinging off of Dean’s hand, and his wolf is liking the image a bit too much. Whatever thoughts he had about Dean the interloper has long since vanished; now, Dean’s a potential mate, and his wolf wants to chase him through the woods until the omega submits. 

Wincing at his internal monologue, he simply shakes his head and smiles. 

“I don't mind,” he offers sincerely. “I’m a were too, Dean. I know how touch helps.” 

Dean’s smile moves from embarassed to happy, and he bumps his shoulders with Cas before bending down to pick Emma up. He swings her over his head as though she weighs nothing and settles her on his neck, allowing her to grab at his hair and hold on tight. 

“This okay?” he shoots a wary look at the alpha as though expecting a protest, but Castiel only shrugs. It isn't anything that Chuck himself hasn’t done before; his alpha likes horsing around quite a bit and things get only worse when Charlie joins in. 

They head to the parking lot, where Emma’s eyes go wide at the sight of Dean’s car. She’s always enjoyed motors and machines in a way Castiel never has, and it strikes him now that she gets it from her omega father. 

“This is your car?” she gasps. “It’s so pretty!” 

Dean chortles; there’s an expression of bittersweet pride on his face, and Castiel’s wolf whines at the thought that he’s probably dreamed of teaching his pup how to repair an engine. He can’t get the image out of his head - a heavily pregnant Dean, patting his baby bump and telling his pup about carburetors and engines. 

And judging from the way his jeans tighten, his wolf likes the image a little too much. Snarling inwardly, he forces himself to look at Emma’s face instead.

“Baby,” Dean pats the hood of the dark black monstrosity of a car, “Is a family heirloom, kid. You like cars?” 

Emma nods enthusiastically. “I do,” she claps her hand. “Daddy doesn’t, but Grandpa and I love them. We’re the ones who told him to get the Jaguar!” 

Dean laughs. “Good choice, then,” he holds his hand out for a high-five. “Stick wimme and I’ll teach you the best cars.” 

“Really? You’ll teach me?” 

Castiel’s built up a resistance over the years to the bug-eyed look, but Dean melts like butter. He pulls her close and winks at her, swinging her over the side of the Impala to settle her on top of the hood and she leans back against the metal, giggling. 

“Of course,” his voice is entirely too soft, but Emma doesn’t notice. She turns to Castiel and sneers at him comically, clapping her hands. 

“Shotgun!” she calls, and Castiel rolls his eyes. 

“Nice try,” he tells her. Despite the fact that she’s not old enough to sit by herself in the passenger seat, she tries every time to get him to let her sit in front. 

She pouts, but Dean tickles her again, and the easy smile returns. Castiel sighs as he slides into the backseat with her, Dean watching them both through the rearview, an affectionate expression on his face. 

It doesn’t take them long to hit the Park, and they drop their clothes off at the cabin. Dean leads them into the woods, striding forward confidently, and Castiel tries hard to take note of the way his bare back jiggles. He breathes in deeply, reminding himself that his pup is right here. 

Emma bounds forward, biting her lip as Dean comes to a stop in the middle of the clearing. He goes on one knee and raises an eyebrow at her, patting her cheek gently. 

“You ready, kid?” he asks softly. His scent spikes with worry, and Castiel can relate - the Shift is hard, no matter the age, but the thought of his pup being in pain as she moves from one form to another, and worse, him not being able to do anything about it… 

It’s uncomfortable to say the least. 

But that first Shift is a moment of pride for every parent, as much as it is a recognition of the fact that their child is growing up. Dean’s already missed her first Shift, but this will be the first time he sees her doing it and he doesn’t think he wants that to be tainted by worry. 

Or at least that’s what he tells himself as he moves to take Dean’s hand in his own and pat it gently. He wants to wrap an arm around his waist, or better yet, bury his face in his nose and scent him properly, but he holds himself back. 

Dean shoots him a surprised look, but shrugs. He doesn’t say anything, though he twines their fingers together, and instead, pulls him back, giving Emma enough room to Shift. 

She bends low and growls in her throat. Dean winces as he hears the familiar snap of bone and the rowl of pain that escapes her, but Castiel simply tightens his grip around the omega. A moment later, a small wolf pup stands in front of them, Emma’s intelligent green eyes peering out at them through red-tinged, tawny fur. 

Dean drops Castiel’s hand to move forward and go on his knees in front of her. She leans forward to lick his face and he snorts through the tears as he pats her gently, rubbing his hand through her fur. 

“You’re,” his voice sounds wrecked, “You’re absolutely beautiful, kiddo.” 

Emma whines at the tears, licking them away and Dean pulls back, bending over to Shift himself. A moment later, two pairs of identical green eyes are glaring at the only human in front of them and Castiel tilts his head before growling back and joining them. 

He shouldn't want this - he can’t want it, can’t want the way Dean bounds across the clearing and into the forest, showing them his favorite spots. He shouldn’t want the way Emma yowls and then challenges her omega dad, darting forward; he shouldn't feel like his heart is bursting at the way Dean catches her by the scuffle and lifts her up in his jaws, glaring down at her recklessness. 

He shouldn't want any of it, but he does. 

        

*-*-*

The rest of Emma and Castiel’s stay passes in an instant, and Dean’s heart sinks when he wakes up two days after their little romp in the forest. The parts for the Jaguar arrived the day before and Jo’s set both Rufus and Bobby on the car, which means that it’s gonna be ready by today. And then Cas and Emma both will be on their way. 

He may never see them again. 

Growling low in his throat, he pushes the thought away - Cas promised him they’d keep in touch, that he and Emma could regularly spend time together. Charlie’s even sworn to set up secure Skype accounts for them so they can chat on video, and as much as a part of Dean is wary about trusting an alpha - one that’s he’s so fucking attracted to as well - he is almost startled to realize that he does. 

Which is why he forces himself into Jo’s shower and gets ready for the day, frowning when he sees that his drawer of clothes at her place are running out. He’s going to have to go home soon, not to mention that John’s been calling regularly to find out where the hell he is. 

But he has no energy to face his father right now. He’d rather focus on his pup, especially since she’s going to be leaving soon. 

Krissy shoots him a concerned look when he and Jo finally make it into the garage. 

“You okay, old man?” she asks. “Jo said you weren’t feeling well.” 

“I’m good,” he ruffles her hair, shooting Jo a questioning look. The blonde simply shrugs in response. 

“You didn't tell ‘em?” his brow furrows as they walk into the locker room to grab their coveralls. The people at the garage are tightly-knit. Bobby and Rufus practically raised him and Sam when Dad checked out, and Krissy, Lee and Garth are the closest thing he has to a pack. 

“It’s your pup,” she mutters back. “Figured you could tell ‘em when you were ready.” 

“But Benny already saw me and Cas together,” he points out. He hasn’t really spoken to his best friend since then, too occupied with Emma to offer him an explanation.

“I told him to back off,” Jo tells him. “You deserve to  get to know your pup in peace, Dean. although…” she eyes him warily. “Might wanna tell Sam soon.” 

Dean sighs, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. He’s been living in a bubble for the past three days, he knows - it’s been a rollercoaster of emotion. Finding Emma, being terrified of losing her, and then suddenly having Cas offer to let him be part of her life while fighting his attraction to the man…

He’s been utterly out of it, to say the least. 

“I will,” he answers. “Just… not now.” 

Jo rolls her eyes and sighs. “Tell him soon,” she insists. “He won't be happy if he finds out elsewhere.”

“Where else is he gonna find out?” Dean asks in surprise. 

“I dunno if you realized, Dean,” she snorts. “But your pup is  _ Emma Shurley _ \- she’s the heir to the biggest tech conglomerate in the country. She’s kinda famous.” 

“Charlie’s set up security,” he insists. “The press won't find out anytime soon.” 

“Still. Best to let Sam know soon.” 

Before he can articulate a response, she jumps back into the stall to change, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Her words echo around his skull and he winces as it sinks in. 

Emma is the heir to the biggest tech conglomerate in the country. She’s famous, she’s rich and she’s already got a family. 

Why would she want to be with  _ him _ ? 

Stepping out in his own coveralls, he stares around the tiny, shabby garage that he owns. Dean isn’t rich by any means, but he does okay for himself - this garage is one of the few good things John Winchester’s built. More importantly, it’s the one place that Dean feels truly home at. 

Getting pregnant at nineteen had derailed most of his life plans, but he’s never looked back.  Losing Emma meant that his college career was over - first, he was in bad physical shape after the accident, and then, he was too depressed to return. The garage had become his lifeline then; when he was pregnant, he used to come here and tinker with the machines because he wanted to teach his pup cars. Afterwards, he came here because the only thing that made sense were machines - you tighten a screw, loosen a bolt and they do what they’re supposed to, unlike life, which fucks you over each time. 

Or so he’s thought. 

Now, he looks around - John set the garage up, but Dean’s the one who’s poured blood, sweat and tears into it. This is his space. 

But Emma’s used to Jaguars and five-star hotel rooms. How can he possibly hope to match that? 

As thought thinking about her summons her presence, he smells the soft citrus in the air. Frowning, he turns around to find her at Krissy’s desk, her alpha right behind her. 

“Dee,” she yells at the sight of him and he raises a hand in greeting. Before he can say anything else, she races over to him to offer him a hug hello, and then looks up at him with wide, curious eyes. 

“Dee, you said you’ll teach me about cars,” she says breathlessly. “Daddy said I can spend the whole day here, with you!” 

Dean blinks in surprise and looks up at Castiel, who follows at a much more sedate pace. The alpha’s expression, however, is tight, his shoulders stiff. In the few days they’ve spent together, Dean’s learned to read him well; without his scent to go off of, all Dean’s had is his body-language and facial expressions, and he’s nothing if not observant. 

“Hey man,” he greets. “Everything okay?” 

Instead of answering, Castiel turns to Emma and points at Krissy’s desk. “Em,” he says, “Will you do me a favor?” 

“Of course, Daddy,” she nods. 

“Check with Miss Krissy about our car? Ask her when it will be ready and get the forms out for me? Can you do that?” 

“Yessir,” she says solemnly and then pads off to Krissy’s desk to do as her father asked. 

“Cas?” Dean frowns. 

“I need you to keep her with you for the day,” Castiel mutters. “Dean, I…” 

“What’s going on?” he demands. 

Castiel looks around furtively, his brow furrowing and he hesitates. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?” he says finally. 

Dean leads him back to his office at the very back. Sometime in the last few days, one of the mechanics have cleaned up the mess he made when he broke his phone here; he suspects it was Jo, but he doesn’t say anything as he settles into his chair and watches Castiel pace across the floor agitatedly. 

The phero-suppressor masks his scent, but Dean can see how worried he is. 

“Cas, what’s going on?” 

The alpha takes a deep breath and then turns to Dean with a sharp look. 

“Emma is in danger.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Dean freezes, ears ringing with Cas's words. 

"Say that again?" he snaps. "What danger?" 

His wolf snarls and  _ protectprotectprotect  _ thrums through his veins. He  _ just  _ found Emma, he's not going to fucking lose her again. 

"Dean," Castiel's voice is terse and he's posturing, and son of a  _ bitch _ , but no knothead is going to stink up Dean's personal space. The garage is his turf, and Cas needs to tell him the fuck is going on right the hell now. 

"What danger, Cas?" he asks harshly. 

"What I'm about to tell you," he begins, "Has to stay between us. I can't risk the public finding out." 

"Why?" Dean sneers, "Your precious reputation in trouble, alpha?" 

He's being unreasonable, he knows. But his pup is in danger, and his wolf is raring to rip into something and he's been off sorts all day, and Castiel is not helping. Because this thing is a reminder of just how  _ different  _ he and Cas are, how different he and Emma are. 

"Because I need to protect both my family and my employees," Castiel answers furiously. "I understand that you don't trust or like me, Dean, but please, do me the courtesy of not treating me like I'm a rich idiot." 

Dean subsides at that, exhaling deeply. That's the exact thing he's been worrying about since Jo pointed it out to him this morning - Castiel is stinking rich, and Emma is used that kind of opulence. What does  _ he  _ have to offer in comparison?

Sighing, he leans back against his chair and rocks slightly, shaking his head. 

"Sorry," he mutters. "Just... worried. Tell me, Cas," he asks this time, careful to keep his tone neutral. "What's going on?"

"You'll keep this quiet?" Castiel eyes him suspiciously. 

"Yeah," Dean nods. "If that's what you need me to do." 

It's the alpha's turn to sigh, and he pulls up the second chair and seats himself across Dean's desk. 

"I apologize for being so rude," he says, "But understand, I have to keep both my company and my family safe. For the past few months, I've been dealing with anonymous calls."

"Anonymous calls?" Dean frowns. 

"When they first began, I thought they were prank calls," Castiel continues. "I ignored them, didn't even tell Charlie because I didn't take them seriously. And then they shifted to emails." 

He pauses, looking tired as hell, and suddenly, all Dean wants is to reach over and hug and scent him in comfort. The need to do comfort him pisses him off even more, so he crosses his arms and glares back. 

"What kinda emails?" 

Castiel shrugs. "Strange, blank ones. And then ones with information about my days, telling me how much they loved me. I receive fanmail on a regular basis, but these contained somewhat more detailed information - they talked about how good I looked wearing that blue tie during that meeting, and things like that." 

It takes Dean a minute to understand what he's getting at. 

"A stalker," he concludes. "You have a stalker." 

Castiel shoots him a miserable smile. "It would appear so," he answers hoarsely. "I asked Charlie to track the emails down, but she's had trouble, and neither of us had anything concrete to take to the police, except for some creepy emails and empty phone calls." 

"Something's happened," Dean doesn't hesitate to reach out this time, taking one of Cas's hands in his own. The alpha's hunched down, closing in on himself, almost prostrate on his desk, and it hurts to see. 

"An hour ago, I received another email. So far, they've been just messages that compliment me - nothing threatening, even if I found it uncomfortable. This one's different. The sender's escalated to threats, and Charlie thinks we need to get the authorities involved." 

"And what do you think?" Dean mutters. 

"I agree with her," Castiel's voice is exhausted. "I contacted a friend at the FBI, and he's willing to take a look at the case, but I don't want Emma involved. I need her to be safe, and I'm going to be on call the whole day from the hotel." 

"I can keep her at the garage," Dean squeezes his hands. "Your car will be ready by this evening and then you get her home." 

"No!" Castiel's snap has him pulling back in surprise. "No," he repeats in a softer tone. "Until this is solved... Dean, I can't take her home. I need... I have... she  _ has  _ to be safe, Dean, I need her safe." 

"As do I," Dean says. "But you have better means to protect her, Cas - you can buy her a bodyguard, get her armored trucks, hell, you can keep her in bubble wrap in a way I just can't." 

And it hurts - he's her dad too, she's his pup, and he just found her, and already, he's failing at keeping her safe. 

Maybe she's just better off without him. 

"It's my wealth that's threatening her in the first place," Castiel shakes his head. "The email came because my stalker couldn't find me in my office right now - Charlie thinks it's someone from my own company. If that's true... if she's right, Emma is in danger the minute we step into our home." 

He looks at Dean pleadingly, "Just... I'm thinking I'll stay here for a while. Lay low at the hotel until it's all sorted out. The press doesn't know about the roadtrip, and my dad and Charlie can handle the company for a bit." 

"Alright," Dean shrugs. "Your company, your call, man. But..." he pauses, and then continues, "If I could tell the rest of my workers about you and Emma... they can help keep an eye on her. She can hang out here all day." 

"Your...workers?" 

"They're my pack," Dean offers. "Eh, you know what I mean," he waves his hand about, because weres don't really have packs anymore, "You can trust them. I've known most them my whole life." 

"But Dean," Castiel begins. 

"They helped me through her death, Cas," he interrupts. The alpha falls silent at that. "They're the ones that got me going again - I trust them with everything, even my pup." 

"Okay," the CEO sighs. "We'll let them know  _ if _ ," he glares at Dean challengingly, "If they sign non-disclosure agreements. I understand they're your family, but I need to protect more than just myself - if the press gets wind of this, or if the stalker finds out I'm onto them, all of my employees are at risk." 

The omega frowns; he doesn't like the stipulation, but he sees the necessity, so he swallows hard and nods. Castiel sinks back into his chair, deflating before his eyes, and Dean feels a rush of sympathy for him, patting his hands gently. 

"C'mon," he gets to his feet, "I promised the kid a crash course in engineering, and my workers would love to meet you." 

He's still off sorts and his mind is still reeling, but Castiel offers him a tired smile, and he counts that as a win. 

*-*-*

Watching Emma zoom about the garage is a dream come true. It takes her less than an hour before she's got Rufus, Bobby and Lee wrapped around her little fingers, and Dean has to fight them for her attention as he pulls her close. She's not a baby, but she's still tiny - the garage isn't what he'd call a safe place for a kid, so he refuses to let her out of his sight. 

At least that's what he tells himself until he has to drop her off at the hotel when they finally shut the place down for the night. He sees Bobby hesitating outside his office, waiting to demand the full story - he's only told them the bare bones of it, and both Bobby and Rufus had to stomp back to the break room and crash a mug to prevent themselves from Shifting and chasing after John. Much as he appreciates their affection, right now, his only priority is the small bundle conked out on his desk - he has no energy to deal with any of them. 

So he's grateful when Jo wrangles everyone else into leaving him alone. Bobby shoots him a tight look that says  _ 'we're not done, idjit,' _ and Rufus is growling in his throat, which means Dean has his work cut out for him. Still, he gets the night off from their inquiries, and he focuses on Emma, watching her sleep against his table, drooling lightly as he knows he himself does. 

God, he doesn't wanna let her go back. 

His instincts have been off the charts since this morning; every second she was out of his sight, his blood was thrumming with  _ protectdangerprotect _ , and his wolf is howling at the thought that someone could be after her. It's why he's kept her close, why he threw himself into teaching her all about Baby's engines. And when they were done, he was throwing open the hood of the Jaguar and showing her around her car, knowing she was absorbing only about one third of what he was teaching but not caring because she's right here, with him. 

Sighing, he gently bends down and pats her shoulder, trying to wake her. 

"Em?" he calls softly, "Come on, sweetheart. Time to go, your dad's probably waitin' for us."

She groans and then turns around and flops in his arms. He chuckles fondly; kid sleeps all sprawled out like Sam used to when he was her age. 

Picking her up, he settles her on his shoulder and shuts his office. The hotel isn't too far from the garage, and he can walk there, so he does, wincing at the light patch of wetness forming on his shoulder from his pup's drool. He texts Cas one-handed to let him know that he's coming, and gets into the elevator, stepping out on the CEO's floor, grateful that none of the hotel security stop him. Apparently Cas has made arrangements. 

When he finally gets to Cas's suite, the door is already open. The alpha himself is standing close to his balcony, growling on the phone. His assistant and a shorter, smaller man are standing behind him, pinched looks on their faces. Dean knocks the door, clearing his throat, and three head swivel in unison to stare at him. 

"Dean!" 

Charlie hurries forward, arms stretched out for Emma, but he isn't quite ready to let go. He shakes his head and steps back making a shushing motion with his fingers and she nods sheepishly, miming locking her lips and then throwing the key away. 

"I'll show Emma's room, and then stay with her," the smaller man offers. His voice is hoarse and slightly nervous, but Cas shoots him a grateful look. From the way he squeezes the alpha's shoulder, Dean knows this isn't a random stranger. 

"Come on, Dean," he says kindly. 

Charlie nods at him and he follows the second alpha, still holding Emma. They don't talk, the elder man throwing open a second door that's connected to Cas's room, and pointing to a huge bed in the middle of it, covered with enough pillows to make a fort. 

"You can put her there," the alpha murmurs and Dean does as directed, gently setting her down. She doesn't even stir, tired out from her day of shadowing him, and he tenderly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Scenting her one last time, he straightens up, stomach tightening with the anxiety of leaving her when the alpha speaks up. 

"You're her omega dad," he says. It isn't a question, but Dean nods anyway, tensing up. 

"You can relax, Dean," the alpha's scent remains that clam old library books and ink smell. "I'm Cas's alpha dad. My name is Chuck." 

"Chuck?" Dean blinks. " _ Castiel's _ father is named  _ Chuck _ ?" 

The older were chuckles. "Yeah, you can blame my late wife for Cas's name," he says. "She had a thing for angel names. I was gonna go with Steve, Chuck's ever-so-simple kid, but what Naomi wanted, Naomi got." 

There's a slight hint of irritation in that tone, but Chuck's smile remains the same, and Dean snorts. 

"Nah, Cas is good," he agrees. "Can't imagine Steve being an all-powerful, yummy suit-monkey." 

"That he couldn't have been," Chuck agrees. He pauses and then his grin turns wicked. "Yummy, eh?" he asks calculatively. 

Dean groans and gets to his feet, palming Emma's face one last time. "Well, have you seen your son?" he huffs. "Suits on that? Yeah, anyone would dig it." 

"Whatever you say, Dean," he doesn't like the devious glint in Chuck's eyes and he throws his hands up in defeat as he stalks out of his pup's room, hovering at the door. 

"You'll... you'll keep an eye on her?" he asks. 

Chuck's expression softens. "Of course," he answers. "I'll stay with her through the night, don't worry." 

Dean's a bit surprised that the elder alpha isn't being territorial, but he guesses Cas must've told him the whole story. Nodding gratefully at him, he steps back, heading into Cas's room. He doesn't need to say goodbye or wish the man goodnight, but heck, that's polite innit? 

That's his story and he's sticking to it. 

_ Whatever you say, Dean, _ Chuck's voice rolls around his head again and he ignores the way his wolf is preening mentally at the thought of Cas again. 

The thought vanishes instantly when he takes one look at both Cas and Charlie's harried expressions. 

"What is it?" he asks cautiously. 

Charlie gestures for him to come inside, and he sits down on the edge of the bed cautiously. She’s glaring at Cas, hands on her hips and the alpha is snarling in response. 

“You know I’m right,” she says pointedly. “You staying away will help Henrikson.” 

“It’s  _ my  _ company,” Cas answers tersely. “I need to be there.” 

“We know that your stalker is someone with close connections to someone working inside. You really want to trust Emma with them?” 

“Of course not,” he retorts, “But I don’t see why I need to be hidden away as well! I’m not a pup, Charlie, I can take care of myself!”

“Uh, guys?” Dean calls. 

“Dean,” Charlie snaps. “Please tell Cas that he’s being an idiot.” 

“I would,” he offers, “If I knew why.” 

“Charlie,” Cas growls, “You can't-”

“Castiel here,” the look she shoots him is utterly dirty, “is acting like a big, macho knothead. Henrikson thinks it’s a good idea for Cas to stay on his road trip - the stalker got pissed and slipped up by sending a threatening email because he’s incommunicado right now.” 

“And I’m guessing you wanna dash back into the fray instantly?” Dean finishes, eying Cas with a raised brow. The alpha huffs in response and drops into the chair before them. 

“I understand where they’re coming from, but it wouldn't be hard to trace my path,” he points out. “I used my credit cards to book this hotel room, and I’m not exactly invisible to the local media - people are bound to recognize me where I go. I may as well return home to help find the culprit.”

“And what about Emma?” Dean asks sharply. “You just said yourself that she ain’t safe near the company - you plan on takin’ her back?”

The anxious thrum of  _ protectprotectprotect  _ is back, but Cas shakes his head immediately. He shares a look with Charlie before clearing his throat. 

“I was hoping,” he says awkwardly, “That she could stay here with you. Until it’s all sorted out?” 

Dean’s mind stutters to a halt. Emma, here, with him - it’s too good to be true. 

“It’s perfect, because no one would suspect it,” Cas continues, “Nobody outside your garage knows about her, and nobody knows you. And I know you’d do anything to keep her safe.” 

There’s a pointed note in his voice, and Dean swallows, refusing to admit how much that trust means to him. Just three days ago, Cas was snarling at him in suspicion and here he is now, asking him to protect his pup. 

As if Dean needed an excuse. 

“Of course I will,” he says instantly. “But Emma… think she’ll be happy staying with me?” 

Because for all that she’s latched on to him instantly, he is still a virtual stranger. Emma doesn’t know he’s her omega dad, though Dean suspects her wolf recognizes at least something within him for her to be so comfortable in his presence so quickly. 

“That’s what I said,” Charlie says smugly. “Not to mention the public outcry it’d cause if you went home without your pup. I can block your credit cards and you could lay low, but going back is a bad idea.”

“I could still be tracked in a hotel. If I’m in town, Emma’s going to want to see me, you know that. She’d still be in danger from me, and it would defeat the purpose of leaving her with Dean in the first place.” 

“So stay wimme,” Dean blurts out. 

Surprised blue eyes turn to him and he meets them bravely, refusing to admit to the low swoop of desire in his belly. 

“Dean, what-?”

“Stay in my house,” he repeats. “You and Emma. Charlie can put out a press release saying that you’re still on vacation with her, and you guys can go totally off grid. As long as you stick to my house you’ll be fine - no cash or credit trail to lead back to you.”

“Dean, you can't be-”

“Ha!” Charlie lets out a triumphant cry. “That’s settled then, I’ll go get Henrikson online.” 

“Dean,” Cas’s voice is solemn. “This isn’t… you can’t… you live with your father, yes?” 

The tight set of his shoulders is telling; Dean himself hasn’t been home since the day he found out about Dad’s assholery, but neither of them have many options right now. Plus, he kinda wants to throw it in the son of a bitch’s face - his pup is alive, and damn him and his stupid backwards ideals. 

“Not really seein’ a lotta other choices here, Cas,” he says honestly. “I geddit, believe me, I do - but you need to lay low for a while and you need a place where you won't be tracked. I come rent-free, with free food and free WiFi.”

“As long as you don't access any of your accounts from that WiFi,” Charlie says sharply, “You should be fine. I’ll get you a secure burner phone that we can use. Other than that, no contact with the outside world till I give you the okay.” 

Cas sighs and then looks between the two of them. “Do I get a say in this?” he asks in a hollow tone. 

Charlie winks and shakes her head, already digging through her phone. “Nope,” she pops the  _ P _ ,  “Hey, Victor, talk to me.”

She bounds away and Dean turns to Cas with a questioning look on his face. 

“Victor?” he asks. 

“FBI Agent Victor Henrikson,” Cas shrugs. “Old friend.” Abruptly, he turns to Dean and says, “Dean, you’re not obligated to do this, I, uh… I can stay somewhere else or figure out something else -”

“Dude, no,” Dean interrupts. “Look, I’m not sayin’ it ain’t a pain, but I wanna help. And Emma’s not gonna be comfortable around me for a while yet, best you stay. For her.” 

He tries to be as convincing as he can - his wolf is jumping excitedly at the thought of Cas staying in their space, at being able to show Cas his home and his territory. 

And Emma… Emma’s gonna be staying with him, his pup will finally see the nursery he made for her, even if it’s seven years too late. He can fix her bedroom up with her now; she’s staying for a while, from the looks of it, and kids needed toys and beds and things -

Shit. 

She’s gonna be here for a while. So’s Cas. 

Which means…

“But, um,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, pointedly refusing to meet Cas’s eyes. “I uh…”

“Dean?” Cas prompts. 

“I’m due for a heat soon,”  he blurts out. “Not that you gotta help me with or anything, but just think you should know what you’re signing up for.” 

Cas freezes. “You’re not… I mean, I’m not going to-” 

“Dude, no,” he interrupts. “I don't want you to help me through it, just… you should know is all.”

He smiles humorlessly, because hell, he hasn’t been around an alpha in heat since… Lisa? Jesus, it’s been ages. He doesn’t like to think about his heats much, because he doesn’t like turning into a needy little bitch every once in three months, but he tracks his cycles regularly because he is not getting pregnant again. Nope. Been there, done that, no thank you motherfuckers. 

“And you trust me to stay in your house when you’re going through it?” Cas asks softly. 

Dean meets his gaze squarely. “You plan on sexually assaulting me without my consent?” he asks without hesitation. 

Cas looks scandalized. “Of course not,” he snaps. “I may be biologically wired to respond to an omega in heat, but I’m not an animal.”

The mechanic shrugs. “Then I’m not worried.” 

Cas eyes him for a long moment, before turning away and offering him a tired nod. “Alright then,” he smiles. “If you’re certain?” 

“Dude,” Dean says. “I already said yes, just come home already.” 

Castiel snorts. “I see where Emma gets her impatience,” he mutters. 

Dean leans forward eagerly. “Yeah?” he asks. “Can you...uh… can you tell me about her? As a kid?” 

“Help me pack,” he answers, “And you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

*-*-*

John isn’t home when Dean gets back. Cas and Emma are coming over tomorrow morning and he has until tonight to get everything ready for the kid, so he’s glad Dad isn’t there to bug at him. To be honest, he isn’t really ready to face the baggage that comes with dealing with his dad right now. 

Instead, he pulls out his phone and dials Sam’s number as he strides into the nursery he’s kept all these years. That first month, Dad fought long and hard to pull the room down, to turn it back into an empty guest bedroom, but Dean stood his ground. He’d already lost his pup; he was gonna keep the damned nursery until he was well and ready to truly let her go. John had cursed and fought and even tried to sneak the crib out in secret, but once Dean Shifted and growled at him as a wolf, the old man had no choice but to let him have his way. 

And now, at long last… he’s going to be bringing his pup back here. She’s bigger than he’d imagined - the crib needs to be moved and he’s got to get the air mattress down for now - but his empty nursery is finally going to see the pup it was meant for. 

The tears are wet against his face when Sam finally answers. 

“Hey Dean.”

The mechanic finally relaxes at the sound of his younger brother’s voice, sinking on to the floor across the crib. 

“Sammy,” he croaks, unable to hold the tension back from his voice. He’s wrung inside out - his pup is finally coming home, but she’s not staying, and she’s in danger, and the alpha he’s dangerously attracted to is with her, and the fuck is his life even?

Sam hears the way his voice cracks and is instantly on alert. It’s not the first time Dean’s called him when he’s upset - Sam was his rock when Emma died, the one thing that held him together when he had nothing to hold on to. 

“Dean, what’s wrong?” he asks concernedly. “Did you have another nightmare?” 

“Sam, Emma’s alive,” he holds no punches back. “She’s alive, and she’s here.”

There’s a significant pause and Dean feels an acrid laugh bubbling in his throat. Because of course this is un-fucking-believable. His pup is alive, and she’s the daughter of one of the biggest billionaires on the planet, but both of them are staying at shabby old Dean’s place because some stalker is after them. 

When did his life turn into a shitty romance novel?

“Dean, Emma’s-” Sam begins cautiously. 

“Not dead,” he interrupts. “I met her Sam, I’ve been hanging out with her for the past three days. She’s alive.” 

“What?” 

It all comes spilling out easily - how John took his pup away, how he met Cas, how Emma came bounding up to him that very first day even without knowing who he really is. Sam listens without comment, a low growl growing in his throat at the thought of their Dad fucking with Dean’s life in such a horrid manner. 

“And now,” Dean finishes, “both Cas and Emma are gonna be staying here for a while, until they get that mess at the company sorted out.”

“Woah,” Sam says finally. “This… Dean, all this is… fuck,man.” 

Dean snorts. “I know,” he mutters. “The son of a bitch got me good.” He doesn’t need to name who he’s talking about. 

“I’mma kill him,” Sam hisses. “God, Dean, she’s been alive all this time - she lives just four hours from me.” 

They both fall silent; Sam’s so close to Emma, has been for the past few years, and still, they never crossed paths. It took Cas coming all the way here, to bumfuck Kansas, for them to meet - fate’s a fickle bitch, indeed. 

“Now what?” Sam asks. “What’re you gonna do?” 

“I… dunno,” Dean shrugs, getting to his feet and running a hand over the wooden crib. It’s gathered dust despite the way he tries to clean it once a month and he absently rubs it, closing his eyes. “I want her here, Sam,” he confesses. “I want her wimme, I want her to be my pup.” 

Because no matter how happy he is that his pup had someone to love on her and care for her in his place, he can't deny the fact that he’s jealous. 

He also can't voice this out to anyone else - even if Cas would allow it, Dean himself wouldn't allow Emma to stay with him, if only because he’s seen how much she loves her alpha. She has a  _ home  _ in Sacramento, with Cas, with Charlie and Chuck. She goes to school there, with friends - he can't take any of that away, no matter how much he wants her here. 

“I know, Dean,” Sam murmurs. “I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah,” he gulps. “Me too.” 

“What about Cas?” Sam asks, breaking the silence that falls over them. Dean frowns. 

“What about him?” he demands. 

“Dean,” his little shit of a brother snorts, “You ain't foolin’ anyone. I know you like the dude, drop the act.” 

“Well, he’s a good alpha to my pup,” he deflects. “Of course I like him.”

He can almost hear Sam’s eye roll and grins at the bitchface his mind throws at him. Fuck, but he misses the kid. 

“You  _ like  _ like him,” Sam insists. 

“Glad to know you’re still in high school, Samantha,” he snarks back. “Wanna braid hairs and paint our nails together, bitch?” 

“Shut up, jerk,” comes the expected reply. “Go fix your pup her room, I’m going back to my studying.”

“Bye,” Dean hangs up with a grin, rolling his shoulders back and leaning over the crib. 

Sam’s right, but he’s never going to admit it to him, of course. He  _ does  _ like like Cas, and he’d be lying if he said a part of him does not picture them gettin’ sweaty under the sheets. He knows who’s face he’s going to be picturing when he sticks that inflatable dildo in his ass in a couple weeks - but that’s only for him to know and the world to never find out. 

After all, there isn't the slightest chance in hell that  _ Castiel Shurley _ would shack up with him of all people. 

The only connection between him and Cas is their - well, his and his, not theirs as in  _ theirs  _ \- pup. 

And Dean’s just gonna have to make his peace with that.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Dean's stomach is churning with restless anxiety by the time he makes it to Cas's suite the next morning. Charlie and Chuck are going to remain in the hotel, but Dean's sneaking Cas and Emma out in a simple, nondescript car he's brought in from the garage. This early in the morning, no one except the hotel staff are up and about, and Charlie's already vetted each and every one of them. 

Cas is waiting for him in his room, looking disgruntled and irritated. His eyes are red, and he's glaring at his phone as though it's personally offended him. 

"Uh, Cas?" Dean asks.

The CEO doesn't say anything, but simply grunts in response, throwing the phone on to the bed behind him, running his hands through his hands exasperatedly. 

Charlie snickers, sliding past Dean to hand her friend a cup of steaming hot coffee. Cas grabs it and takes a huge gulp, breathing in the aroma as though it's giving him new life. 

"Castiel Novak 101," Charlie reaches over to ruffle his already messed up dark hair, "he's a giant bear before his morning coffee pot. Take notes, Dean." 

Fuck, but he should  _ not  _ find that cute. Dean swallows hard, pushing away the shiver that runs down his spine, before shaking his head and grinning at the man. 

"Bear, eh?" he teases. 

Cas rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. "We should go get Emma," he mutters and stalks off towards the pup's bedroom. Dean shares and amused glance with Charlie and follows, humming under his breath. 

Chuck is curled around Emma on the big queen bed. He isn't asleep, but his eyes are closed as he hums softly, running his hands through her long hair. Dean's heart grows about ten times in size when he hears the soft little rumble of her snore - she sounds like Sam used to before he went and grew up.

Cas hangs back, allowing Dean to move forward and bend down next to the bed, gently reaching out to pat her cheek. Chuck smiles at him, opening his eyes and shaking Emma awake lightly. She groans and rolls over, her hand flying in the air and narrowly missing Dean's face. 

"C'mon, kiddo," he murmurs. 

"Dee?" she mumbles sleepily, and he doesn't answer, simply picking her up and holding her close. Barely awake, she nestles in close, scents his neck and promptly falls back asleep, snuggling into his shoulder happily. His wolf preens, hackles raised protectively, and Dean has to blink away tears when he turns to Cas. 

Less than two weeks ago, he was a single, bitter omega whose one shot at happiness was long gone. Now, his pup is cuddled in his arms, snuggled sleep-warm against him, and his heart is too big for his chest. 

He’s terrified of losing this. 

Cas is watching them both, a strange expression on his face. His phero-suppressors from yesterday are wearing thin, and Dean can scent a bare hint of agitation and restlessness from him, but his eyes are impassive as he sips his coffee.

"Take care of her," there's a warning in Chuck's tone as the elder man sits up. It's the first time Dean sees the alpha aggression on his face and for once, he doesn't take offense to it, simply offering him a nod. 

"I promise," he says. "Cas?" 

"Dad, you're sure you're okay returning without me?" Cas turns to his dad. 

Chuck shrugs. "I can't do anything here," he says. "And Charlie's gonna need support back at the company."

Sighing, Cas sets his mug down and moves past Dean to soak in his alpha's presence one last time.  A moment later, he straightens up from Chuck's hug and strides out purposefully, refusing to look back. 

It doesn't take them long after that to head back home. Dean reluctantly lets go of Emma and lets her sleep against Cas as he moves to the driver's side of the dinky little Prius he's borrowed from the garage. He hates to admit it, but Baby is anything but inconspicuous, and bringing Cas home in her would've made an impression no matter the time of day. 

He's glad Dad's still not home to make fun of him as he shifts the Prius into park when they pull up in front of the house. Cas hasn’t said much during the whole drive home, but his phero-suppressors are beginning to wear off and he smells agitated as fuck, so Dean does his best to appear as unthreatening as he can when he opens the door and holds his hands out for his pup. The alpha dumps her unceremoniously into his arms and Emma groans, stirring lightly before cuddling into his side and slipping back into sleep. 

“This way,” he fumbles with the lock before finally walking into the house and leading Cas upstairs towards Emma’s nursery. He’d be lying if he said he isn’t nervous - not only is Emma’s alpha moving into the space he’s set up for her, he’s letting Cas into his own space and that hasn’t happened in years. 

When he finally opens the door, he hears Cas’s sharp intake of breath. The crib is still inside, pushed to the corner, and the air mattress he’s filled out takes up most of the room, sitting in the centre with about a dozen pillows thrown over it. It isn’t just that though - all around the room are the many different toys he bought years ago, back when he thought he was gonna raise his pup on his own, without an alpha telling him what to do. 

There are cars and automobiles, of course, but there are also stuffed animals and dolls, and fuck, but Dean’s never considered how it might look to Cas. Does he think the dolls are too pansy for his pup? Does he want Emma to present as an alpha? Does he also think that omegas aren’t quite the gift that kids are supposed to be? 

The worry that frissons through his gut is harsh, but Dean ignores it, simply tucking Emma into the air mattress. She doesn’t even stir this time, simply rolling over and clutching at the pillow -  _ his  _ pillow - and burying her nose into it. His heart clenches and he smiles, hyper aware of the way in which Cas walks inside and comes to stand next to them. 

“This was going to be her nursery.” 

It isn’t a question but Dean nods anyway, tensing. He knows he smells off - he can read the answering restlessness in Cas’s own scent, but the alpha’s voice remains calm when he speaks up again. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he mutters. “You… you shouldn’t have lost so many years with her.” 

Dean blinks. Well, that was weird? He was expecting Cas to posture and whine about the toys, not apologize for their shitty situation. 

“It ain't on you, Cas,” he replies gruffly. 

For a moment, they both remain still, watching their pup snore softly on the bed Dean’s set up for her -  _ Jesus _ , she sounds just like Sammy used to when he was a pup. Ignoring the way his eyes burn, he jumps to his feet and motions towards the door. 

“C’mon, dude,” he grunts. “I’mma make breakfast.” 

“Uh… would you mind if I kept you company?” Cas’s voice is soft and shy. Christ on a tortilla, Dean’s finding him more and more attractive by the minute and this is not good. 

“Sure you don't wanna get in some shut-eye yourself?”

“I’m too restless,” Cas shrugs. “If it isn’t too much trouble…” 

“It ain't,” Dean interrupts. “I’m makin’ pancakes and bacon, c’mon.” 

“I do apologize for being a bother,” Cas says, and fuck, there it is again, the nice-ness. Dean’s so,  _ so  _ screwed. “You don’t have to cook for us all the time, I can-” 

“Cook too?” Dean smirks. 

Cas winces. “Not much, I’m afraid,” he admits unhappily. “Chuck did most of the cooking when I lived with him, and I worked at a cafe in college, so I ate leftovers mostly. And then…” he trails off, looking uncomfortable. 

“And then you were a hotshot CEO and had a staff cooking for you,” Dean finished, leading him back down the stairs. 

“Exactly,” Cas smiles. “But I could try?” 

“Yeah, no,” Dean rolls his eyes. “I’m not feedin’ my pup shitty food, and you’re a guest. I’ll cook.” 

“I’m sorry to be such a bother,” Cas sounds so tired and contrite, Dean’s wolf is whining to hear it. “I’m just-” 

“Dude, it’s cool,” he cuts him off. “I’m good at it and I like doin’ it - so shut your yap.  Now,” Dean leads him into the kitchen, pointing at the counter. "Coffemaker's there," he says, "You can make your own damned coffee." 

He ignores the way his belly flip-flops and the way his wolf howls triumphantly at the sound of Cas's light-hearted snort. His scent goes from agitated to grateful and amused and Dean has to force himself to look away, because Jesus, those eyes... 

Sighing, he yanks open the door of the fridge, pulling out the eggs and the juice. He can hear Cas moving around behind him, trying to figure out the coffeemaker, and tells himself that this is temporary. Cas isn't here to be Dean's mate, he's here because he ain't got a choice and he needs to remember that. 

"Thank you, Dean," the alpha murmurs, as though in response. 

"Yeah," he grunts back, moving to the stove to set the pan on top of it. 

Silence falls between them, Dean busying himself with the pancakes and Cas slurping on his coffee. It isn't uncomfortable, but it isn't entirely uncharged either, and Dean can feel his neck prickle at just how much he likes Cas in his space. 

"Where... where's your father?" 

Cas's voice is almost a whisper, but the hint of aggression is strong in his scent. 

Dean stiffens, and then shrugs, turning back to him. The pancakes smell good, as does the bacon, and for a long moment, only the sizzling of the pan echoes in the silence between them. 

"I dunno," he finally answers. "Don't give a shit either."

Blue eyes fix themselves on him, looking tired and knowing. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"It is what it is," he swallows past the lump in his throat. "Son of a bitch dunn't deserve my forgiveness of pity."

"He's your father," Cas presses. "That cannot be easy, knowing he's the one who took your pup away from you."

Dean barks out a humorless laugh. "Isn't the first time he's fucked up my life, man." 

Cas doesn't respond, but his scent turns protective. When Dean looks up, he sees him eying him with a carefully worried expression on his face, but he's not pressing, and that, more than anything else, is what convinces Dean to continue. 

He doesn't owe this alpha jackshit - but he  _ wants  _ to give it all to him, which is why he's terrified. 

"Mom died," he tells him bluntly. "Fire burned our house down when I was four and Sammy was six-months old. Dad started drinkin'... no one around to look after Sam, so I stepped up." 

"I see," Cas doesn't say anything else, simply sipping on his coffee. 

Dean tosses the pancakes on to a plate and throws in another batch of 'em to cook. "And what about you, Mr.CEO?" he snarks back. "I dunno anythin' about 'xcept what I see on TV." 

"My mom died too," Cas echoes. "She left me her company when she did, and I... took over." 

"No shit, Sherlock. Tell me somethin' I dunno." 

"She walked out when I was a child," Cas mutters. "Didn't want to be the mother of a were." 

Well, fuck. 

His wolf whines unhappily at the sudden spike of distress in Cas's scent and he winces, swallowing hard. 

"Well, at least Em's got both of us now," he offers weakly. 

Cas smiles, setting the mug down. "Indeed," he says seriously. "Dean?" 

"Hmmm...?"

"Will you..." he hesitates and then continues, "Will you let your father interact with her?" 

Dean pauses. He hasn't even considered it - Dad's been gone almost a full twenty-four hours by now, but he's gonna be back sooner or later. He's gonna have to deal with him eventually. 

"No," he says finally. "I don't think so. He's the one who took her away in the first place, he doesn't get to be near her now."

"But he lives here," Cas points out. "We can't ignore him completely." 

"Sure we can," Dean snorts. "He's barely ever sober. I'll make sure he sticks to his room, and when I'm not around, you can make sure he comes nowhere near our pup." A second later he realizes what he just said. "I meant my- yours- yours  _ and  _ my pup!" he fiddles. 

Cas chuckles. "Our pup," he teases, "Sounds easier." 

"Whatever, man," Dean huffs. "Just keep her away from my son of a bitch dad and we're good. I give you full permission to pull alpha rank on him if you have to."  

"You're very stubborn," Cas remarks. "I guess that's where Emma gets it from."

Dean feels the corner of his lips curve into a warmer smile. "Yeah?" he asks. "You promised me stories?" 

"Of course," Cas nods. "Would you like to know about the time she refused to eat breakfast because Charlie wouldn't let her tinker with the remote-controlled car one of the Board members gifted her?" 

"Wanted to take it apart, didn't she?" Dean grins. 

"And put it back together," Cas hums in agreement. "She was barely six." 

His heart clenches at the picture his mind paints. He turns his back to Cas to hide the way his eyes burn, but the CEO doesn't seem to mind, simply continuing the story. The rough cadence of his voice soothes over Dean's agitation and he laughs as Cas tells him of his six year old pup, glaring up at her alpha dad and aunt, her long red hair curling over her face sweetly as she huffs at the car in front of her. 

They're in the middle of breakfast, Dean roaring with laughter at the story of Charlie and Emma pranking stuffy Zachariah in the middle of the break room, when the loud yell echoes with the room. 

"And Zachariah is threatening to call security when-"

"What the fuck is going on here?" 

John's angry roar breaks through the haze of the warm family morning that they're having and Dean whirls around, pancakes forgotten, to see his dad standing in the doorway, glaring at him. 

Cas falls quiet. His face remains impassive, but his scent spikes - the pine and thunderstorm smell goes cold with anger. Dean's wolf recognizes the fellow threat to its territory and for once, he doesn't protest the way it wags its tail at Cas's sudden protectiveness. 

"Dad," he greets, trying to keep his own voice as neutral as possible. "Hey."

"Dean," John replies through gritted teeth. The stench of booze that drifts off of him is almost cloying in its intensity, and his eyes are red. "Who the hell is this and what's he doin' here?"

"My name is Castiel, Mr. Winchester," Cas speaks up. "Dean has offered me and my pup room for a couple of days."

"Pup?" john stiffens. "You're a were?" 

Cas's nod is sharp. "Indeed." 

"Omega?" 

"Alpha." 

John's head snaps to Dean so quickly, he's worried his dad will get a whiplash for a moment. 

"You brought a random-ass alpha into our house?!" he yells. "Are you insane, Dean? You're already known as a troublemaker in the neighborhood, kid, what the hell do you think they'll say now?"

"He ain't a random-ass alpha, Dad," Dean sneers back, moving across Cas to glare at his father. "He's my pup's alpha. Remember my pup, Dad? The one  _ you  _ told me was  _ dead _ ?!" 

John steps back, startled, but to his credit, doesn't stop. "This-" he turns to Cas, who is standing tensely, looking exactly like an alpha marking his territory. "This is Emma's alpha?"

"Don't call her that!" Dean snarls. "You left her - you took her from me!" 

"I did what I had to," John shoots back. "If you were responsible enough, if you hadn't run around sluttin' it up, we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place." 

"It's  _ my  _ life-" 

"There's a world out there, Dean, and you have to live in it! And now you've got your pup's dad stayin' with you - the fuck do you think people are gonna say?" 

"I don't care!" Dean roars. "Emma's  _ my  _ pup. I get to decide what I wanna do, who I wanna meet, Dad. Cas needs a place to lie low, and I need my pup and you're gonna shut the fuck up and stay outta it." 

"Not in my house, he isn't," John grits back. "As long as you live under my roof, you're going to behave yourself. I'm not going to tolerate an unmated omega staying with an unknown alpha in my house." 

Dean pauses for a moment, taking in the tired, broken expression on his dad's face. Truth is, his anger doesn't even make sense anymore - there's more concern in dad's eyes than he's seen in decades. Son of bitch truly did just what he thought he had to. 

And that, of all things, hurts more than anything else... because the  _ one  _ time dad's tried to help, the one time he's actually tried to show Dean that he cares... 

He's fucked up the one thing Dean wanted more than anything. 

So he swallows hard and goes with what comes to his mind. "It ain't your house," he says quietly. 

"Excuse me?" John looks taken aback. 

"It ain't your house," Dean repeats, this time in a much louder voice. "I payed off the mortgage and I'm the one who's fixed 'er up. The house is in my name, Dad." 

Dad's scent turns acrid with anger and fear, as though he senses what's comin'. 

"So what're you sayin'?"  he snaps. "Don't do somethin' you'll regret, son-"

"Get out." 

The words slip out almost against himself; it's as though he's watching someone else deliver the lines, watching Dad's slack-jawed expression and Cas's worried one. 

For so long, for so many years... Dad's word was law for Dean. And then he stole his pup away.

In a way, Dean can almost understand where he's coming from. He's been parent to Emma only for a few days, but already, his first thought is to do only what's best for her - Dad was only trying to do what he thought he had to, for Dean. 

He can do no less for his pup. If that means separating her from her bastard of a grandfather, so be it. 

"Get out, Dad," he repeats dully. "Just... go. I don't want you here, and I don't want you anywhere near my pup."

"Dean, you can't be fucking serious-" John growls. He steps forward in a threatening manner and Dean snarls at him. "I'm your father, Dean! Your alpha!"

"I don't have an alpha," he hisses. "Get out."

"If you think I'm leavin' boy behind because he's being a stubborn, hair-brained fool, when he's got no alpha-" 

"Your boy is a grown man," Cas finally jumps in. "He can take care of himself - he doesn't need an alpha."

Dean shoots him a surprised look, but doesn't protest it. Damn straight, he is a grown-ass man and he doesn't need an alpha to look after him. 

"You stay out of this, Castiel!" John looks furious, stepping forward with a fist raised. 

Cas snarls, moving between them and hissing loudly. Dean's almost startled at how much of his wolf he can see right now - that kind of aggression is usually uncommon in their human forms. 

And he'll never admit it, but goddamned, that shit makes Cas look insanely hot. 

"Leave," Cas snarls. "Now." 

For a long moment, John glares at them both, face twisted into a sneer. Then, abruptly, he turns and stomps out, pausing in the doorway for just a moment. 

"This isn't over, Dean," he warns. "You're my boy, I'm not just gonna give up on you."

Dean pushes past Cas. "It is, Dad," he says as softly as he can. "I stopped being your boy the day you took my pup away and lied to me about her death." 

He sees the way Dad's back stiffens and his heart breaks as he watches the man walk out of the house without turning back even once. Despite everything, Dad's still Dad... Dean's wolf still howls at the thought of their alpha leaving, at the fact that he has, for all intents and purposes, lost him. 

Blinking back the hot wetness from his eyes, he turns to Cas, who is watching him concernedly. 

"Are you alright?" he mutters. "I apologize, I didn't think it was my place to say anything, but he-"

"All good, dude," Dean interrupts. "I'm... it's all good." 

Cas eyes him warily but doesn't say anything else and Dean finds himself grateful for the fact. Instead, they both just go back to breakfast as though nothing's happened.

And if Dean locks himself in his bathroom to cry his eyes out when Cas disappears to check on Emma a few moments later, then that's his business and no one else's. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The next few weeks both fly and crawl for Castiel as he finds himself torn between being delighted and frustrated. The latter emotion is mostly to do with the fact that the stalker situation is escalating, but Charlie won't tell him anything about it except that he needs to go out as little as possible to avoid being recognized. While he understands the necessity of it, he does not appreciate being kept in the dark and his wolf hates the restriction on its movements. 

The former, however, is entirely attributed to Dean and Emma. Castiel isn't the most expressive person - except around his pup - but he's self-aware enough to know that he isn't just attracted to Dean. 

Every night, he goes to sleep with images of Dean's green eyes and those plush lips - the omega smells perfect to his wolf. More importantly, every time he watches Dean interact with their pup, he can't help the way his belly flip-flops. That Dean loves Emma was clear as day when they met; that he can love her now, even when she's grown up to be so different than what he imagined she would be... it tells him how big Dean's heart is, and how devoted he is to his family. 

They've even established their own routine. Emma, apparently, gets her love of sleeping in from her omega dad; Cas finds himself awake before both of them on most days, so he goes down to start the coffee. He tried the breakfast thing once and it didn't end well. 

Dean comes down right around the time he finishes draining the first pot and they share a quiet last cup together before the mechanic takes over breakfast and Castiel puts in the second pot. Emma bounds down by the time the smells of food swarm through the house and the three of them share their meal through bouts of laughter and teasing, not unsimilar to what Castiel and Emma have at home with Charlie and Chuck on the rare days their schedules match up. Emma enjoys having their undivided attention and Dean, despite his reticence when it comes to sharing with others, doesn't hesitate to give it to her. 

They go their separate ways after that, Dean going in to the garage while Castiel tries to occupy himself within the house. Emma splits her time between them, but the CEO knows she prefers to hang out at the garage with Dean - she's just as much of a gearhead as her omega dad is. 

His wolf wags its tail each time he thinks about where her love of cars comes from; it's been a mystery all this time and now, it's finally a mystery solved. 

Once every two days, the three of them will go running - Dean knows how caged Castiel feels inside the house, and has even marked a quiet path to the Park that is away from public eye. Those evenings are some of the best Castiel has ever had; Dean doesn't hesitate to challenge him in the forest, and Emma's always happy to run around without restriction. 

And if that isn't enough, random members of Dean's extended family keep dropping by to keep Castiel company - Jo popped in that first day, and then Bobby and Rufus turned up, and then it was Krissy. 

Almost everyone seems to have adopted them, and while Castiel is aware that it's mostly because they care about Dean and he's Dean's pup's alpha, but it's getting harder and harder to remember that each day. 

And Dean himself...

Lord, but the omega is  _ perfect _ . Each night, Castiel sleeps across his bedroom, in Sam Winchester's room, and no matter how guilty he feels about jerking off to the omega is his own younger brother's room, he can't help it. Dean is beautiful, passionate, loud and loving - if at all Castiel has dreamt of a mate, it's exactly like that. 

He's falling in love. And he knows that Dean doesn't care for him beyond the fact that he is Emma's alpha, even if his wolf thinks they're mated and gets as insanely protective of Dean as any wolf would their mate. 

"Daaaadddddd!" 

Emma's loud voice breaks him out of his reverie and Castiel sighs, rolling out of bed. It's Saturday, which means that Dean has the day off from the garage, and offered to let Cas sleep in for once, so it's surprising that he hasn't heard or smelt the omega at all. 

He walks down the stairs to see his pup impatiently hanging off of the railing, looking annoyed. She's still in her pajamas and her hair is askew around her face, as though she jumped straight out of bed and ran down. 

"Dad!" she brightens up the moment she sees him and runs up to throw her arms around him. He hoists her up and settles her on his hip before walking back down, musing that she's getting too big for this. 

"Where's Dee?" her brows furrow and Castiel shrugs. 

"Isn't he here yet?" he asks and she shakes her head. 

"Nope," she answers. "And his room is locked," she pouts, "I'm hungry."

She eyes him dolefully and he rolls his eyes; it's not a big secret in their household that he's a terrible cook and she never fails to make fun of him for it. 

Setting her down at the table, he hesitates for a moment before shrugging and opening the refrigerator door. He's been here long enough that Dean's space has begun to feel like his own, but even otherwise, he has a hungry pup to feed and he's sure Dean wouldn't want their kid to starve. 

So he simply pulls out a loaf of bread, some juice and the butter and jam. It doesn't take long for him to whip sandwiches together and he places it in front of Emma before glaring at her whine. 

"Eat," he says sternly. "I'll go check on Dean, see if he's doing okay." 

"Do you think he's sick?" her pout turns to an expression of worry and he leans down to press a quick kiss to her forehead, ruffling her hair. 

"If he is, we can take care of him to show him how much we appreciate all that he's done for us, can't we?" he hums. 

Emma nods enthusiastically. "Yes!" she cheers and he grins, offering her another kiss before walking back upstairs. 

Neither of them have told her the seriousness of the situation; she doesn't know why they're staying with Dean except because something is wrong at Castiel's office. They haven't told her about Dean's real relationship to her either - the mechanic is hesitant, though Castiel doesn't know how much longer they should keep it quiet. The longer they go without telling her, the more betrayed she will feel, he knows, but neither he nor Dean know how to approach the issue. 

Sighing, Castiel walks across his own room, to knock on Dean's door, when the smell hits him. 

Dear Lord. 

He freezes, hand raised mid-knock, as it almost knocks him over. It's Christmas pudding and fresh snow and green grass and old books all at once - all the scents Castiel has loved growing up, thrown at his face until his wolf is wagging its tail, tongue lolling out desperately. 

"Dean?" he calls, his voice a low growl. Arousal prickles at the back of his neck and he breathes in deeply. 

God, but Dean smells perfect. 

"Dean?" he repeats dumbly, pants tightening. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's happened. 

Dean is in  _ heat _ . 

This isn't the first time that he's been around an omega in heat; when you are the head of a corporation as large as Novak Industries, inevitably, you ended up coming across an omega whose heat came early. 

An inexact science, heats have often been used as an excuse to keep omegas out of the workforce for decades together now. He himself has spearheaded a bunch of official policies within Novak Industries to allow omegas three days of paid leave per month for this very reason; it seems utterly absurd that an alpha who'd take days off to help their omega mate would be lauded for being a good alpha, while an omega was criticized for their very nature. 

Suffice to say, Castiel knows very well how to handle himself around an omega in heat. Pheromones attract, but they do  _ not  _ control, and he's shocked at how much his wolf is itching to chase after their omega and claim- 

_ No! _

He grits his teeth and growls mentally at his wolf. Dean is  _ not  _ his mate, no matter how much it feels like they're building a life together. This is temporary, damn it. 

"Hey Cas," Dean's voice croaks through the door as though on cue. "Looks like you're gonna have to take care of Em for a couple days." 

"Are you alright?" he asks concernedly, glad for the solid wooden barrier between them. He curses the fact that he's out of phero-suppressors, certain that Dean can smell his arousal. 

"I'm good, dude," the mechanic sounds awkward. The air thickens with a fresh wave of the smell of slick, and Castiel's mouth waters, his pants tightening so hard it's almost painful. 

"If you need anything," he says hurriedly, "Please send me a text." He pauses for a moment, and then offers hesitantly, "Unless you wish for me to leave... I understand this is uncomfortable, I don't wish to-" 

"Cas," Dean says irritatedly, "Just shut up, man. Charlie asked you to stay put the last call, didn't she?" 

"Yes," Castiel answers, pinching his nose in a vain attempt to keep the scent at bay. "She said that the stalker is someone I know - if I get recognized, it would be very easy for them to track me down. If she tells me who it is and I inadvertently let them know I know, then we lose the chance to catch them." 

"Then go downstairs and sit your ass on my couch," Dean snarks. "I'm fine here. There's some leftovers in the fridge, heat some up and bring me some food later." 

"You're certain?" he presses, ignoring the bulge in his pants and the way sweat beads his brow. His wolf whines, irritated that they would leave their mate like this - their mate needs them, they can feel Dean's want, can smell his slick.

_ No, _ he snarls.  _ He’s not my mate.  _

"Golden, Cas," comes the reply. "Now, if you don't mind... I'm kinda..." he trails off awkwardly and Castiel feels his face burn. 

"Of course," he murmurs. "I'll see you in a while."

He walks away without waiting for a response, but doesn't go back down immediately. Instead, he moves to his room and strips, throwing his clothes off and stepping into the shower, trying to will his erection down. 

Lord, he hasn't ever smelled an omega this perfect. Even with Meg, he wasn't this aroused - she smelt good, but Dean... Dean smells  _ right.  _

Snarling to himself, he turns around and yanks on the shower knob. The showerhead sputters icy water, but his cock doesn't wilt and the image of Dean behind his eyes, on his knees and licking up that drop of precome, just won't fade. 

For a long moment, he simply glares down at his cock and then sighs, giving in. Throwing his head back, he jerks himself off, grip harsh and violent, because Jesus, he  _ likes  _ Dean, he wants Dean, but he can't  _ have  _ Dean, and he feels like such a creep doing this in Dean's brother's space. 

It doesn't take him long to come hard and fast into the clenched space of his own fist. He tries his best not to enjoy it too much, soaping up quickly and rinsing his hair. The erection is gone, but the restless buzz of arousal is still thrumming through his veins, particularly with Dean's scent lingering across the hallways as he walks downstairs a couple of minutes later. 

Emma's done with her breakfast and is wrinkling her nose when he sits down on the couch next to her. 

"Dad," she says, climbing over him to drape herself across his lap. "What's that smell? Where's Dee?" 

"Dean's in heat, baby," he murmurs. "Remember we talked about it when we went to visit Aunty Donna and Jody and one of the omegas there went into heat?"

"Yeah, when Daddies and Mommies can get puppies in their tummies, right?" she frowns. 

Castiel nods. "That's right," he says. "For the next three days, Dean won't be able to come out of his room, so let him be, okay?" 

"Wait, does that mean Dee's going to have a puppy?" she exclaims, her eyes lighting up. 

"Uh," he fumbles, "No, sweetheart... Puppies can happen only when omega daddies or mommies have an alpha with them during this time." 

"Oh," she bites her lower lip and then falls silent. Castiel ruffles her hair and pulls her close, picking up the remote. The TV across them flickers to life as he turns it on and they curl up together. Tom's chasing Jerry around the house when Emma speaks up again. 

"Daddy?" 

"Hmmmm?"

"Why don't I have an omega daddy or mommy?" 

It's not the first time she's asked that question, but it is the first time that her scent spikes with more mischief than it does the usual resignation or longing. 

"You know why, Em," he peers down at her suspiciously. "You know you're adopted and I've never had a partner I'd consider mating without your approval." 

She waggles crimson brows at him, looking entirely too much like Charlie at the moment. "Well," she drawls, "I like Dee, Daddy... can he be my omega dad?" 

Castiel doesn't know whether to laugh or snort at the irony - Dean is her omega dad and she has no idea. He wants to tell her, he wants so badly to, but it's not his secret to reveal. 

Breathing out slowly, he tickles her sides and she giggles, kicking at him happily. 

"Daddy, no!" she gasps. "Da-dadd-ddy!"

"Well, puppy," he hums, "You'll have to ask Dee that." 

She glares up at him, rolling away. "Do you like him, Daddy?" she demands. 

And looking at her now, seeing Dean's green eyes widen at him from that freckled face... he finds that he can't lie to her. 

"I do," he admits softly. "Very much." 

"Good," she nods in a satisfied manner. 

*-*-*

It's about an hour later that he grits his teeth and convinces himself to heat up last night's lasagna for Dean. Heats are physically taxing, he knows, and typically leave omegas as hungry for food as for sex. Dean doesn't need to suffer because he's an idiot who can't control his impulses. 

Emma's off playing in the backyard, and Jo's already texted to find out if Dean's doing okay. He told her that he could take care of it; while she threatened bodily harm if he hurt Dean, she simply accepted his word and told him she'd keep the rest of the garage running till he returned. 

That they'd leave an unmated omega alone with an unmated alpha is still something of a surprise to Castiel - most weres he knows are strict about those things, even if Chuck himself wasn't. John Winchester, for instance, Castiel thinks, would have decidedly protested. 

Thinking about Dean's absentee father reduces some of the arousal and he knows his face is curled into a snarl when he knocks on Dean's door. 

He's just about to call out for the mechanic when he hears the were's voice. 

"If I could have him wimme, Sam, you know I would," Dean's voice is irritated and angry. "But he's not interested in me, and I sure as hell ain't propositionin' him!" 

Castiel's heart pounds as his wolf howls in agony. 

"I don't care how much it hurts right now, Sam, I'm not goin' to use him as a sex toy!" 

A beat of silence. And then -

"Sam, for the last time, butt the  _ fuck  _ out," Dean's snarling. "You're actin' a whole lot like dad right now, like I need a damned alpha to function. Yes, I'm in love with him, but that don't mean he loves me back!" 

There's a loud sound of something crashing, and then comes Dean's awkward cursing as he stomps around the room. The smell of his heat ramps up and the angry groan he lets out fades into a soft moan, but even that cannot break through the miasma of anger and heartbreak that Castiel's breathing through. 

Dean is in  _ love _ . 

Dean is in love with another alpha and it isn't  _ him _ , and oh  _ Lord _ , but his hands are shaking and his head feels light and everything feels so,  _ so  _ wrong - 

_ Matematematemate _ thrums through their veins - Dean is  _ theirs  _ \- he's  _ their  _ mate - their pup's omega -

**No.**

Castiel grits his teeth, biting his lip hard enough that he can taste the blood. It satisfies the perverse anger within him, and he's suddenly itching to run, to chase, because Dean is in love with someone  _ else _ , and fuck, but his wolf can take its heartbreak and  _ shove  _ it because Dean is  _ not  _ theirs, Dean is his own person. 

He bends down, sets the lasagna on the floor and whirls around to flee into his own room when he hears it. 

"Ca-Cas..." 

Castiel freezes. His heart is thundering against his ribcage and something hot and tight squeezes his stomach as Dean's soft pant rips through the air. 

"Go-God, Cas," he's gasping, and behind his eyes, Castiel can see the way his entire back arches up, freckles standing out against pale skin. "Cas, fu-fuck me... fuck, Cas, so good... so...  _ Jesus _ ." 

Is  _ he _ ... Is Dean... 

His wolf is snarling at him to break the door open and claim their omega again and again, and despite his better sense, Castiel finds his feet dragging him towards Dean's door. He can smell the slick; his mouth waters at the thought of Dean, on the bed, moaning his name and fucking himself with a dildo. 

What would he taste like? 

"Cas, so good baby, Ca-Cas-Cas," Dean's voice drops. "Cas, I love- Cas, I-  _ ah!"  _

Castiel's hands have found their way to the bulge in his own pants and he's growling softly under his breath. Dean came with  _ his  _ name on his lips - does that red blush spread all the way down his chest? Does he look as beautiful in real life as he does in Castiel's fantasies when he comes? 

He wants to find out. 

"Oh fuck."

Dean's voice is frantic and worried, and Castiel's growl grows louder as he leans his head against the door, aware now that the scent of his own arousal is whipping through the air. The omega can probably smell him - his wolf snarls at the thought, because yes, Dean should smell him, Dean should smell like  _ them _ , because Dean's  _ their  _ mate, Dean's _ theirs - _

_ Not yet, _ he hisses,  _ not yet, Dean hasn't said yes yet.  _

"Cas," comes the weak, embarrassed call. "Cas, man, I can smell you out there, and you need to go." 

"Open the door, Dean," he demands. 

"No," Dean snaps. "You're not comin' in. Go back down." 

"You called my name, Dean," Cas snarls. "You're in heat and you yelled at Sam, and still, you called  _ my  _ name." 

"Cas, I swear to God, if you don't get the fuck outta here, I'mma call Bobby or Benny to make you go," Dean hisses back. Castiel's wolf howls - their mate is everything, he's unafraid to challenge them, he's perfect. 

"Am I him?" he demands. "Am I the man you just told Sam you cannot have?" 

"Cas, go," Dean's voice is pleading, but he needs to know. 

He needs  _ Dean  _ to know. "Because if I am," for a second, it's fear and not arousal that makes his heart race, "If I am, Dean... then I want you to know... I feel the same way about you." 

He rests his forehead against the door, feeling the cold, hard wood against his skin, and whispers what he's been hiding for weeks. 

"I want you," he confesses. "Lord, I want you.  _ So  _ much." 

The only thing he hears in the ensuing silence is the way his heart pounds against his chest. 

And then, Dean's yanking the door open and he's falling into the omega's arms, feeling a sweaty, naked body twine itself against his own, even as a warm hand squeezes his denim-covered erection and a loud moan rips itself from his throat. 

"D'you mean it?" 

Dean sounds so afraid, his eyes exactly like Emma's when she wakes from a nightmare she can never quite identify the origins of. And Castiel sees the same fear in him that he sees in his own pup's eyes - of rejection, of no alpha to offer a soothing touch, of no warmth and love written in their fates. 

So he does what he does with Emma every time she snuggles up to him at times like this; he gathers Dean up in his arms and buries his nose at the base of the omega's neck, scenting him deeply and running his hand through sandy blonde hair to groom him best as he can. 

"I do," he murmurs. Pulling back the slightest bit, he cups Dean's face in his palms and leans his forehead against him - the other were is a whole head taller than him and he has to lean up to do it, and his entire being warms at that feeling, because Dean is perfect the way he is. 

"I love you," he says it firmly, clearly, threading every inch of his alpha into his voice for Dean to hear. He's not going to command Dean to submit to him, not without his consent, but he wants Dean to know that he  _ isn't  _ lying or pretending, that means every word he says. 

The sharp intake of breath is welcome and then Dean's bending down, shaking in his arms, kissing him sloppily. A warm, wet tongue probes against his mouth and Castiel opens up easily, yanking the omega closer and groaning at the back of his throat as Dean squeezes his ass tightly and rubs himself against Castiel without a hint of shame. 

"Gods, Cas," their omega sounds utterly wrecked and Castiel's wolf whines happily. "I love you, you dork." 

Snarling at that admission, he pushes Dean back to the bed. The omega goes willingly, pulling the CEO down with him and Castiel chuckles as he almost falls over Dean, catching himself at the last moment. 

"Get down here, asshole," Dean growls. The air is rife with pheromones and Castiel can smell Dean's heat amping up again. 

"Patience," he chides. Dean whines unhappily, his were peeking out, and Castiel breathes him in, stepping back to quickly strip out of the thin shirt that is suddenly too confining. He's slow as he pulls his pants off, enjoying the way Dean's eyes darken and the soft gasp as the omega sees that he's gone commando under his jeans. 

"Like what you see?" he teases and Dean snorts. 

"Hell yeah," he waggles his brows and Castiel laughs. Naked and unashamed, he moves to hover over Dean, raking his own eyes over his sweaty, freckled form. He's seen him naked before, of course - they've stripped and gone running way too many times in the past few weeks not to have done so - but this is the first time he's  _ allowed  _ to look, the first time he can take in all the dips and grooves and the imperfections that make Dean so utterly beautiful. 

"Cas," Dean squirms under his scrutiny, but Castiel won't let go now. He's seen far too many times already how little Dean loves himself, how little Dean lets himself be pleasured and taken care of. 

He wants to be the alpha who takes care of Dean. 

It's a primal thought and his wolf howls as it flashes across their brain, but it's as much a need to make Dean love himself as it is a need to love him. 

"I'm going to make love to you," he breathes. Without giving the mechanic a chance to protest that statement, he bends down and seals their mouths together, finding big, rough hands and twining their fingers together. Dean moans and kisses him back, thrusting his tongue against Castiel's and moving his hips up to rut against him. 

Draping himself across those broad shoulders, Castiel throws Dean's hands up together and looks at him with a stern expression on his face. 

"Keep them there," he commands. Dean whines, but the omega in him obeys as he breathes heavily, watching Castiel bend down and press gentle kisses against his throat. 

Without pausing, Castiel scents his neck, sucking a hickey into the side of it, worrying the flesh until it turns a deep, dark purple. He breathes hot against a dark nipple, pulling back to watch it pebble, enjoying the loud groan that rips itself out of Dean's throat. 

"Ca-Cas," he writhes, "Cas, man, fuck-" 

Laughing softly, he bends down to mouth at it, even as he moves his hands to squeeze at Dean's cock, flapping it over the mechanic's belly. He thumbs the fat head at exactly the same moment he bites down on the nipple and Dean cries out loudly, arching into him, feeding him more of his flesh. 

"So perfect," he whispers, pulling back. Dean is panting, sweat dripping down the side of his face and Castiel sits back to admire the view. 

He was right - the flush does spread across his entire torso, making his freckles stand out that much more. 

Grinning, he swipes his hand across his own mouth. Dean's eyes narrow at him as he watches Castiel moan at the taste of his precome and he grabs him down to press a filthy kiss to his mouth. 

"Are you going to fuck me or not, Castiel?" he challenges. 

"Mouthy omega, aren't you?" he murmurs against his mouth and Dean yanks at his hair in frustration. It works against him, however, because Cas shrinks into the touch like a cat, and kisses his way down Dean's body to press a soft kiss to the tip of his leaking cock. 

"Cas, please," he moans. 

Before the omega can say anything else though, Castiel has his mouth buried in that ass, licking up the slick that's dripping out of him. He throws Dean's legs up, almost bending him in double and forks his tongue in and out of his hole, alternating between sucking softly and fucking him with his tongue. 

"Cas, baby," Dean sobs, "Please, I need- Cas - I need you-" 

Castiel's wolf whines at the incoherent babbling; they're taking such good care of their mate. He feels Dean clench around him, feels the tremor of the growing orgasm in the way his thighs shake, and pulls back at the last second. 

"Fuck, asshole!" Dean curses and Castiel grins, looming large. A single drop of Dean's slick wets the corner of his mouth and the omega leans up to lick it away, kissing him harshly. 

"Fuck me, dammit," he orders. 

How can he say no to that? 

Castiel swiftly pushes him over and Dean whines, propping himself on his elbows, canting his ass up. He leans over and thumbs both cheeks, fingers circling his glistening hole, and before Dean can do more than whine in protest, he sheaths himself completely, groaning at the glorious heat that surrounds his own cock. 

"Ca-Cas!" Dean yells, "Jesus." 

Castiel sits back on his knees, pulling Dean along with him so that the omega bounces on his cock and twines his arms around his neck, his back plastered to Castiel's front. The position doesn't leave much room for him to thrust, so he rolls his hips instead, snug against Dean's prostate, even as he reaches around him to stroke his cock with on hand and pinch his neglected nipple with the other. 

"Fuck, Dean," he hardly recognizes his own voice, "Lord,  _ so  _ beautiful, so  _ perfect _ ,  _ my  _ omega, so good-" 

He's babbling now, he knows. His thrusts become erratic and he bites down on Dean's neck. Something hot spurts against his hand, and he looks down, almost in surprise to see Dean's come coating his fingers. 

But Dean doesn't let him stop; he clenches around Castiel's cock and demands everything he has to give. 

"Knot me, Cas," he demands. "C'mon, babe." 

He rolls his hips and turns back to kiss Castiel, and the affection on his face is the alpha's undoing. His orgasm blasts out of him, knot swelling up as the first, and then second, and then  _ third  _ load of come is dragged out of him, anchoring him safely inside Dean. 

They fall to the bed in a heap of tangled limbs, wrapped tightly around one another. Castiel turns them over so that Dean is lying on top of him, legs still twined around his waist as he scents Castiel’s neck, kissing it softly. He hums, running his hand through Dean’s hair to groom it again. 

“Hello, Dean,” he hums and Dean snorts.

“Dork,” he mutters fondly. Silence falls between them, but Castiel can hear Dean’s heart thudding against his own and he sighs, arching into the omega’s touch. 

“Cas,” Dean is the one to break the moment. “What does… what…” he fumbles. 

“Dean?” 

“What does this mean for us?” 

Castiel eyes him cautiously. “What do you want it to mean?” he mutters. 

Dean shrugs. “Like I said…” his expression is carefully neutral, but he doesn’t have as tight a control as Castiel does on his scent and the alpha can smell his worry. “I’m in love with you,” he says. “And you… you said you were…” 

Castiel leans up to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I told you I love you,” he repeats. “I meant it.” 

“Then what now?” the relief in Dean’s voice is stark. 

“Whatever you want,” he answers. “Emma just asked me if you could her omega dad,” he adds.

“I  _ am  _ her omega dad,” Dean snorts. 

“Well, maybe you should tell her that,” he points out. “Dean, this… whatever this is,” he gestures between them, “Is for you to decide. If you want me to leave as soon as we can separate, then I shall do so… but if you’ll let me,” he rolls them over and Dean  _ hmphs  _ as Castiel looms over him, still knotted inside him. 

“I want to make love to you again,” he kisses him, licking into the roof of his mouth and savoring the sound of Dean’s moan reverberating against him. “I want to raise Emma with you, I want to put a mating mark on your neck and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Dean doesn’t say anything for a while and he pulls back, worried that he was too forward. He opens his mouth to apologize when the mechanic pulls him back down and kisses him again, thrusting his tongue into his mouth and clenching around his cock. 

“I’d like that,” he whispers. “A hella lot.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The next two days fly by in a haze of pheromone-filled, heat sex. Once Dean realized that he’s gonna do this, that he’s letting Cas knot him up through his heat, he called Jo and asked her to help with taking care of Emma.

“I _knew_ it!” Jo exclaimed on the phone and Dean frowned at it. “Yo Kris, you owe me twenty bucks!”

Apparently there was a garage betting pool on how long it’d  take Dean to get Cas into his bed. He’d groaned and asked her to shut her trap and look after his pup before hanging up, burying his face into Cas’s neck and snorting disgustedly, even as the alpha had chuckled and kissed his cheek.

But it didn’t stop there, _oh no_ . Bobby and Ellen both call almost immediately, the former barking out at Castiel that _“if you hurt that idjit, I will use my very real shotgun on you,_ ” and the latter ensuring that he was using protection and being safe. Dean didn’t know which was more embarrassing - he’s a grown-ass man, for fuck’s sake, with a pup of his own.

And the final phone call from Sam cinches it all. His younger brother’s just as much alpha as Cas himself is, and while the two have met over Skype when Dean was introducing Emma to her uncle, Sam does not hesitate to deliver the _“hurt him and I kill”_ you speech. Cas takes it calmly, reassuring him that he loves Dean before he grabs the damned phone and growls at his brother to back off.

“Not happenin’, jerk,” Sam calls cheerfully before hanging up and Dean groans, throwing the phone into the pillows. Cas chuckles and slowly grooms his hair again.

“Bitch,” he sighs. “I don't need them to defend my honor, dammit.”

“They just care about you,” Cas points out. “Are you saying that you wouldn’t be giving the same speech to your brother’s partner?”

Dean flushes; of fucking course, Cas is right. The alpha has him pegged - Sam’s his brother, the one who held him through everything including Emma’s death and there’s no way in hell he’s gonna sit by and watch him get hurt.

Still doesn’t mean it ain't embarrassing - especially when _Sam’s_ the reason he and Cas are knotted together right now in the first place.

So he rolls his eyes and clenches around Cas’s dick in response, smirking at the loud moan that earns him. Cas glares at him and then rolls them over, looming above him with predatory eyes, and fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing ever.

When they finally emerge from the bedroom at the end of the two days, Emma dive-bombs them both with a loud, happy screech.

“Daddy! Dee!”

Dean laughs out loud and picks her up, spinning her around. She giggles loudly and scents him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

“Auntie Jo told me that you and Daddy did your heat together, Dee!” she exclaims. “Daddy?” she turns wide eyes to Cas, “You said that if an omega has an alpha at heat, then they get a puppy in their tummy… are you and Dee going to have a puppy? Am I going to be an elder sister?”

She gasps loudly in realization and her head snaps back to Dean, crimson hair hitting him in the face. “Dee, does this mean you’ll be my omega daddy?!”

Dean shares a half-amused, half-worried look with Cas, who shrugs and shakes his head. _Your call_ , he mouths and the omega shoots him an annoyed glare. Before he can protest, though, Cas phone trings and he moves away to answer it, leaving Dean alone with their pup.

_Their_ pup.

That actually _means_ something now, because she does belong to both of them - she’s his, she’s Cas’s and she’s theirs, because they’re both _together_.

“Em?” he pulls her close and walks back to the couch. She snuggles in and watches him with wide eyes as he lies down and rearranges her on top of him, getting comfortable.

“Dee, am I getting a baby sister or brother?” she asks again impatiently.

“No,” he answers hastily. “No, I’m not having a puppy.”

And thank god he’s been taking his pills. They forgot the condom that first awesome time, but he popped the pill the second they separated and they’ve been religiously careful about it since then. Because there is no way in hell he’s gettin’ pregnant again any time soon; he already has a pup, thank you very much, and he’s still gettin’ to know her.

Which is why this conversation is going to be a bit awkward.

Because he and Cas have decided that he’s gonna move to California with them as soon as they can leave here, but Dean has no idea what he’s doin’. He loves Cas, he does, and he knows Cas loves him too, but this is still so very new and fragile. It’s fucking terrifying. _He_ was the one who brought up the idea at all, quietly whispering it between the sheets early in the morning and Cas had simply held him and told him whatever he wanted to do was his choice.

Nothing’s tying Dean to this place, other than the garage. Sam’s already in California and Dad’s fucked off to God-knows-where, not that he wants anything to do with that son of a bitch anymore. Emma and Cas are both in California - moving there just makes sense. He can leave Jo and Bobby in charge of the garage here, maybe open up another branch there.

He’s starting a new life, and _Jesus_ , it makes his heart jump to his throat in good and bad ways at the same time.

“Dee?” Emma’s pout pulls him out of his reverie and he leans up to scent her, breathing in the soft citrus smell of her.

“We’re not having a puppy,” he tells her, “But…” he hesitates a moment, and then jumps ahead, “But I _am_ your omega daddy and I love you very much.”

“You’re going to be my new daddy?” she repeats.

Dean nods. “I already am, baby,” he murmurs. “I…” he doesn’t know how to tell her, how to squeeze the words out, because _Christ_ , he and Cas are together now, and what if she hates him for abandoning her all those years ago?

“You know how your Daddy found you and you imprinted on him?”

“Yeah?”

“It was me, Em,” he blurts out. “I was your omega daddy even then. I gave birth to you.”

She stares at him for a long moment, her face blank, and Dean braces himself for rejection. His heart is thudding and his palms feel clammy with sweat, but her scent doesn’t turn angry, just confused.

“Oh,” she mutters. “Did… didn’t you… didn't you want me then?”

Her voice sounds so small, so shattered, it nearly kills him to hear it. He shakes his head fiercely and pulls her close, chest tightening when she doesn’t push him away.

“No,” he whispers, “Christ on a tortilla, Emma, _no_. I’ve loved you since the day I found out I was going to have you. I never wanted to let you go, I promise.”

“Then why did you?”

The anger he’s been dreading comes now and she’s glaring up at him with eyes so similar to his own, he wants to run away and hide. But he doesn’t - he _can't_ , not now, not when she needs him so much.

“I didn't,” he tells her quietly. “My Dad… your grandfather - remember I told you about him?”

“The bad man who used to live here?’ crimson brows meet in the middle of a small forehead and he smoothes the worry lines away as best as he can.

“Yeah,” he nods, “He took you away. There was an accident when you were born, and I was unconscious, so I didn’t know what happened… my dad lied to me and told me that you died in my belly.”

He’s not sure she understands what _died_ means, but she looks up at him with a tremulous expression on her face.

“So… you didn't know I was alive?” she mutters. “If you knew…?”

“I’d have come for you the second I found out,” he promises fiercely, “You’re my pup, Em, and I love you. Then, now, always.”

“Okay.”

She buries her face in his throat and scents him, small arms tightening around his torso. _She’s shaking,_ he’s startled to realize and he can smell both fear and love radiating from her. His wolf whines, wanting to smother their pup, and for once, he does just that, gathering her close and grooming her hair.

“I love you,” he repeats, “I never stopped. You hear me, kid? _I love you._ ”

“I love you too, Dee,” she sighs.

They’re still cuddling on the couch about twenty minutes later when Cas comes around, an angry scowl on his face. He’s holding the phone in his hand, and he’s still glaring at it.

“Cas?”

Dean looks up, eyeing him worriedly. His wolf senses his alpha’s distress and is itching to fix it, and damn if that isn't a mind fuck.

“Em,” Cas hands the phone off to her, “Charlie's on the line, she wants to speak to you.”

Emma's face brightens and she jumps up, grabbing the phone and sticking it to her ears. “Aunty Charlie!”

Cas pulls Dean away quietly in the lull that follows and the omega raises an expectant eyebrow. “I saw that,” he mutters. “Smooth, getting her to forget us like that… Wassup? What'd Charlie tell you?”

“She and Henrikson found the source of the emails,” Cas looks more tense than Dean has ever seen him. His scent is more than just agitated, though - he's _pissed_.

“Cas, whossit?” Dean asks. “Who's the stalker?”

“There _is_ no stalker,” he answers.

Dean frowns. “Explain that, genius.”

“Zachariah,” he bites out. “My own _CFO_ , Dean. He wasn't fond of me, nor I of him, but I at least believed I could trust him.”

Dean reaches out and draws his alpha into a warm hug, offering what comfort he can. Cas stands rigid for all of two seconds before shuddering and sinking into Dean, allowing his omega to hold him up. He isn't making much sense now, but Dean can smell his acrid sense of betrayal.

“He's always been annoyed that Naomi left the company to me, but now…” Cas breathes into Dean's neck. “He's been staging this whole thing so that he can do a hostile takeover with the Board.”

“What?”

“He sent the emails to spook me into resigning,” Cas says. “When that didn't work, he escalated them, trying to make me have a breakdown so my work would suffer and he could oust me."

"That clearly didn't work," Dean snorts.

"But it _did_ ," he snaps. "Because I stayed on vacation, Dean! I played right into his hands... my position with the Board is already tenuous, and I've been implementing policy changes to protect omegas. The older ones hate it, they’ve hated me since they found out I’m a were."

"Cas, what'd he do?"

"Zachariah used my absence as proof of my lack of dedication," Cas answers dully. "He's called for an emergency meeting of Board members to vote on whether I should remain CEO or not."

" _Can_ he do that?" Dean's frown deepens. He's a small business owner and the singular boss; whatever he says at the garage is pretty much law.

"Call for a vote?" Cas sighs unhappily. "Yeah... and if all the Board Members agree, I maybe looking at an internal takeover. Naomi's will protects me from completely bankruptcy, but I may be forced to resign."

"Fuck, Cas." Dean feels sick. He draws the alpha back into his arms and rests his forehead against him, allowing Cas to scent him deeply.

"What now?" he asks.

Cas looks up at him, the agitation fading away from his scent into something far softer. Dean flushes; he's been smelling this for the past few days, but each time, it catches him off guard, this warmth and affection for him alone.

"Will you watch Emma for the next few days?" he asks quietly. "Charlie wants me to come back; she and Henrikson have gathered enough evidence that we should be able to put Zachariah away, but she wants me to be the one to appeal to the Board Members. I need to reassert my authority as CEO, but I daren't take Emma with me until he's in prison and the threat's completely vanished."

Dean snickers. "You're markin' your territory again," he points out. "Such an alpha."

"It would seem so," he chuckles back. "So... Emma?"

He's looking at Dean anxiously, and the omega knows without him saying it that it's more than just keeping an eye on Emma. Cas is asking him if it's okay that he leaves so suddenly, so soon after they just got together.

With any other alpha, Dean would be insulted - he doesn't need some alpha knothead to live his life. But with Cas, he knows the question comes from as much a place of insecurity as it does the alpha need to protect his mate; his own wolf is snarling angrily at the thought of someone taking over Cas's territory and he's pissed.

So he simply nods and presses a rough kiss to Cas's mouth.

"I'll be here when you get back," he murmurs against him.

"You're still sure about moving to California?" Cas says.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Dude, we've been over this," he sighs. And they have, multiple times. Cas has been fretting since he brought it up; he knows how much Dean values his independence and his garage and that means more than he can say.

"I'm movin'," he answers. "I love you, I love Em, but it's not just for you guys that I'm doin' it. I need... I need to get away, Cas," he looks at the house that John Winchester built and feels the itch burn beneath his skin. "And where better to move to than where my brother, my mate and my kid are?"

The smile on Cas's face is soft as he draws Dean further into him and kisses him softly.

"I love you too," he whispers.

*-*-*

Needless to say, Emma is not pleased about her dad leaving without her. She loves Dean, even accepted him to be her omega dad, but realistically, he is still a stranger in comparison to Cas. So as much as it hurts, Dean accepts it for what it is.  In the end, Cas has to pull his alpha voice on her.

"You'll be back?" Emma sniffles.

Cas goes down on his knees to pull her close. She buries her face in his neck and scents him in an unhappy manner and though Dean's wolf is howling in misery, he offers her an encouraging smile over Cas's shoulder.

"Of course, sweetheart," he whispers. "I'm not abandoning you. I'm coming back for you."

"And when he does, Em," Dean adds, "You're gonna help me pack up, because I'm comin' to California with you guys."

Emma breaks free from Cas and stares at him with wide eyes. "You are?!" she exclaims.

"You wanted me to be your omega daddy, right?" he teases. "Can't be my puppy from the other side of the country, can you?"

"Yay!" she cheers, dropping Cas and jumping on Dean, who picks her up and spins her around for the second time that day. Cas's smile is soft as he watches them and Dean jerks his head in response.

"So you'll stay with Dean till I get back?" he asks Emma, who nods happily.

"I will!" she chirps. "Have a safe trip, Daddy! I love you."

"And I love you, Em," he presses a soft kiss to the top of her head and then turns his face to kiss Dean briefly.

"Take care," he murmurs.

"Always do, Cas," Dean whispers back.

And then he's gone, waving out of the window and driving into the literal sunset. For a moment, Dean stands still and watches, wondering when the hell his life became a cliched romcom, before Emma squirms in his grasp.

"Dee," she whines, "I'm hungry."

"C'mon kiddo," he sets her down and takes her hand. "Let's go grab dinner... I think lasagna as celebration is a good idea, don't'cha?"

"Yes!" she punches the air. "Can we go running after?" she peers up at him through a curtain of dark red hair, and _Jesus_ , he's still dumb enough to fall for that trick, but who the hell can say no to those eyes?

Besides, he's itching for a run anyway. He needs the clarity of his fur. As much as he loves Cas and the way his life is takin' off, it's been a whirlwind couple days and he needs to process.

So he simply nods and winks at her, dragging her inside the house to get dinner going.

*-*-*

Castiel's wolf whines the whole way back to California. Even when he's high in the air, flying 30,000 miles above the ground, it won't shut up, and he sighs, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. His wolf wants its mate, even if they haven't completed their mating yet, and he can't say he disagrees.

To be honest, he's not quite sure why he's doing this... an alpha need to re-establish his authority as CEO? Take down Zachariah and show the older members that he is not to be trifled with?

Protecting Naomi's legacy even if she wasn't the mother he'd always wanted?

Okay, he does know why he's doing it. He's just not sure he wants to face the fact that even after all these years, he  still wants her approval, is _still_ trying to do what he thinks she would've wanted.

Which is why seeing Charlie's face at the terminal is a welcome distraction from his thoughts. She grabs him in an instant hug, allowing her scent and her touch to soothe him before she drags him along to where she’s already got one of the company cars waiting.

“We’re gonna stop by my place so you can get changed,” she eyes his jeans and the AC/DC t-shirt he borrowed from Dean critically. “But the meeting’s been scheduled in two hours, so  we don't have much time.”

Before he can answer, she hands him a bunch of folders with all the evidence they’ve collected against Zachariah. And despite the fact that he and the CFO have butted heads over the years, it hurts to see - his wolf has always counted on the bald man to be a part of its pack and it hurts that he'd betray him like that.

Half an hour later, they're in her apartment and Castiel feels an almost eerie sense of calm descend on him. He's still enraged and his wolf still wants to tear into the flesh of the man who's betrayed them and encroached their territory, but he doesn't let it show on his face. Instead, he settles for a pleasantly vacant look as he grabs the tie and knots it around his neck.

Charlie walks in and thrusts the phero-suppressors into his hand. He eyes it, almost surprised - in all his time with Dean, he didn't wear it at all.

"Ready?" she asks him moments later. He offers her a nod; the office is about half an hour away, but since they're in rush traffic, they'll be cutting it close.

And they do.

By the time they get there, Zachariah's just setting up laptop and is smiling smugly as he orders a bunch of the tech guys around. Castiel grits his teeth at the sight of him - he's even made a powerpoint to explain just how unworthy Castiel is as a CEO.

"Castiel Shurley is not fit for this business," he's saying into the mike, "he's a loose cannon, who cannot follow company policy, and a despot. Where he disagrees with what we've come up with - _collectively_ \- he changes it. He misuses his power as CEO." He pauses theatrically, waiting for his words to sink in before continuing. "I mean... allowing omegas paid-leave for heats? How many omegas do we have on the workforce? How much floating income are we letting go of for this?"

It's only Charlie's hand on his shoulder that stops Castiel from charging in there right away and sinking his claws and teeth into Zachariah's fat neck.

"We provide all employees with sick leave of two whole weeks a year. Omegas have been using this since the day the company was established, I fail to see how this new policy helps in any manner!"

There's a trill of agreement from a number of the Board Members. Behind him, he can smell Charlie's righteous anger, and Castiel breathes in slowly, forcing his wolf to stop howling.

"And instead of promoting omega rights, this policy only makes them weaker. It sets back the good work done by activists for centuries - is that the kind of message we want to send to our employees?" Zachariah looks utterly smug. "That, under the name of omega rights, we overlook how _strong_ they are? That we pay them for biology? Omegas want us to look _beyond_ their biology, treat them as equals... this policy, ladies and gentlemen, does not do that."

He pauses and then presses a button on the clicker, changing the slide.

"And where is Castiel now?" he asks. "he implements a new policy, changes the way we've been running this company - successfully, I might add - for decades together, and then before we can see what results they yield... he goes on a road trip and vanishes!"

He's smooth, Castiel has to admit. Several of the Board members are nodding and he can scent the way they're slowly giving in to the CFO's arguments. It pisses him off - these are the same excuses he's heard from sexist politicians and lawmakers for years to keep omegas out of the workforce. And their human counterparts don't intervene, simply because they've internalized the same notions as most of the weres themselves, of omega weakness, of omega sensibilities and biology.

It's sickening.

"In the past few weeks," Zachariah continues, "In the absence of our CEO, I have handled the fallout of those policies. I have steered the company back to day-to-day working operations and I have seen how the employees feel about the blasphemy that is taking place... and I call for action now. I appeal to each and every board member here - is Castiel Shurley really the kind of CEO we want? He's a were; despite his talk of omega rights, at the end of the day, he's an _alpha_ . How can _he_ think of what's right for an omega? And how can human beings trust that he won't lose his head by an omega in heat or when someone encroaches on his territory? How can we trust him to lead us?"

And now he's playing on the human-were culture clashes. He's painting all alphas as knotheads, all omegas as weaklings and all weres as being ruled by barely more than instinct, bringing centuries-old prejudices to the fore.

Castiel can't take it any longer.

With a sharp look at Charlie, he strides into the room, holding up the folder of evidence and slapping it down on the table in front of him.

Zachariah jumps, startled, and his eyes go wide with recognition.

"Ca-Castiel!" he stutters. "You're _here_!"

"I am," Castiel growls, lacing his voice with his alpha strength and allowing his wolf to peek through his eyes. "Tell me, Zachariah, can we trust you to tell the truth in this presentation?"

A number of Board members are rising to their feet, he sees from the corner of his eyes. The air is rife with the scent of confusion and anger and he inhales deeply. Turning around, he looks at the rest of the room, remaining as calm as he can be. He can't let his emotions get the best of him, especially not right now. Zachariah just painted him as a knothead who's ruled by instinct; no matter how much his wolf is itching to hunt the bastard down, he has to remain calm.

"For the past few months," he begins, addressing the Board, "I've been receiving threatening emails. I contacted the FBI for help, and they advised me to go under the radar, so I 'vanished'," he feels the corner of his mouth curl in a smirk at the way the Board titters at his air-quotes. Charlie's snort encourages him to continue, "But I did not abandon my company... I sent over my assistant, Charlie Bradbury to take  my place. I don't need to explain to you how devoted she is to Naomi's legacy," he pauses and then adds, "To _my mom's_ legacy."

"Zachariah cites omega rights as a reason to oust me. The difference between us is that he'd use them as a cause, he'd parade them as a charity event for our company... and that's not what Naomi, nor I want."

Charlie shoots him a thumbs-up and he smiles at the Board, meeting each of their eyes individually.

"I stand _with_ the omegas, not _for_ them," behind his eyes, he sees Dean's sharp scowl, and knows... his mate doesn't _need_ him, but _wants_ to be with him, and that makes all the difference in the world.

"Whether we're were or human, omega or alpha or beta... we're employees of a corporation first and foremost. And every employee has the same rights as the other."

He picks up the folder and holds it up, growling softly.

"The FBI tracked down the sender of those emails... Zachariah says _I'm_ incompetent? Did he tell you that he planned this whole thing just to paint me so? Did he tell you that he has been threatening me for weeks, that he's threatened to hurt my _seven year old pup_?"

He whirls around, finally letting some of his wolf out, snarling and posturing like he's been longing to since the moment he found out who sent those emails. "Is that how much you care about your employees, Zach?" he sneers, "You'd threaten their innocent children if they did not comply?"

The shocked gasps and titters resonate across the room. Charlie glides in smoothly and gestures for Viktor to walk in. The FBI Agent winks at Castiel as he pulls out his cuffs and Zachariah, frozen so far, suddenly springs into action.

"NO!" he hisses, "You can't prove that I sent anything, and even if I did, sending some emails isn't enough to arrest me."

"Actually d-bag," Charlie snorts, "I traced the emails back to an IP address we can connect to you. There's a reason I'm the backbone of this company and it isn't just because I'm the only one who can get Cas to attend a Dungeons and Dragons party."

"And sending death threats _is_ enough to arrest you," Henrikson retorts.

"No!" he struggles, but the FBI agent cuffs him easily, rolling his eyes and dragging him out.

Castiel watches them go, his wolf running in circles in angry satisfaction. Charlie turns to the Board and glares at them.

"Still think Zach is the best option for this company?" she spits out.

Castiel reaches out and takes her hand, shaking his head. She subsides with a grumble and he steps forward, sinking every ounce of alpha into his stance. He sees the way every were suddenly bows their head, smells the human confusion and in that moment, he finds that he doesn't give a fuck about their delicate sensibilities.

This is a workplace, goddammit. But more than that, it's a place he built and he will not let some backwards, centuries old prejudices tear them down.

"Our stocks are up," he states clearly and firmly. "I am not changing any of the policies we've put in place for omega protection because _some_ knotheads cannot be decent human beings. Either you stand with me or against me on this, but trust me..." he pauses, snarling, "if it's the latter, I will not hesitate to use everything in my power - as CEO - to fight for what's right. And I _will_ win."

He doesn't give any of them a chance to respond, instead striding out, Charlie right behind him, leaving a startled Board in his wake.

He's shaking, he's almost startled to realize. His wolf is still howling in anger and he's still itching to tear into something with his claws because this... This is the kind of bullshit Dean faces on a daily basis.

It _hurts._

He doesn't know when he yanked his phone out or started dialling his mate's number, but the next thing he's conscious of is the way he's clinging to the receiver and the desperately waiting for Dean to pick up.

"Cas!"

Charlie looks concerned but he ignores her, instead closing his eyes and leaning against the wall. The longer the phone rings, the more agitated he becomes -

"Hey there, Cas. You can stay the fuck away from my boy and my grandpup, so... adios, kiddo."

"Dad, no-!"

And Castiel's blood runs cold at the way the line goes dead.

*-*-*

Emma's half asleep on his shoulder by the time they get back from the run. She's kicked her shoes off and her jacket hangs loosely over her neck as she snuggles into Dean's side, eyes drooping tiredly.

He palms her head affectionately, humming Hey Jude under his breath in an almost absent manner. His heart is light with affection for her, and he pulls her close, striding into the house. He's about to flick the light on when he smells it - the old cold coffee and whiskey smell that's been gone for the past few weeks.

"Hello, son."

Dean turns the light on and snarls at Dad, who's sitting on the couch glaring at him angrily.

"The fuck you doin' here, Dad?" he growls. His every instinct is screaming at him to keep Emma safe; _protectprotectprotect_ thrums through his veins like a drumbeat.

"Can't a man come visit his own son?" Dad asks pleasantly.

"Not when he fucks off to God knows where for weeks and then turns up in the middle of the night like some thief!" Dean snaps.

John's expression goes cold. " _You_ threw me out, Dean," he hisses.

"Because you wanted to hurt my pup," as though on cue, Emma whimpers and he chances a look down at her. She's making a terrified face, but strangely, her scent doesn't change - it remains warm and citrusy. Frowning, he sets her down and she sticks to his side holding his hand and clinging to him.

"Ah yes, your pup," John nods. "Is that her? Is that the bastard with no name?"

"You watch your mouth," Dean snarls. "She don't need an alpha's name, but she _has_ an alpha and he's a damned better man than you'll ever be."

John's eyes widen. "You're shacking up with him!" he exclaims. "It wasn't enough that you screwed up once, now you're _sleeping_ with a random alpha?"

Dean doesn't even bother to deny it. "It's _my_ life," he answers tersely. "I do what I want. You can't control me anymore, Dad."

"I was trying to protect you!" Dad yells suddenly.

"By taking away my pup?!" he roars back. "By letting me mourn her for seven whole years? By showing me a fake grave?"

Dad falls silent, eyeing him tiredly, and Dean doesn't know what else he can say.

"You need to leave," he snaps harshly. He's done with this; he's tired from missing Cas, from his run, and just tired in general... he's a got pup now, and she's his priority.

"You're my son, Dean," John says just as sternly. "I'm not leavin' without you. I fucked up - I get that... so I've come to make it right."

"What?" Dean frowns, confused.

"You were right," John admits. "Taking your pup away from you was a shitty thing to do. I wanted to protect you, give you another chance... but I went about it the wrong way, I see that now."

"Okay?"

"So lemme fix this... come with me, Dean," there's an almost manic grin on John's face, and it's starting to terrify Dean. "Come wimme, bring your pup, and we'll start a new life together, somewhere else."

"Dad, you've lost it-"

"I'm not leaving you!" John yells again, and yanks out the gun from his pocket, pointing it at Dean with shaking hands.  He yelps, pushing Emma behind him and snarling at John, who glares at him through bloodshot eyes.

"I'm your alpha, Dean," he snaps. "I'm head of this family, and I'm trying to do what's best for you! You're an _omega_ , no matter how much you wanna deny that fact. I fucked up once, I'm not doin' it again."

"I'm not denying anything, Dad," he retorts. "I know I'm omega, but that don't mean I don't got a right to choose. You ain't gettin' anywhere near my pup."

If only he could Shift... his wolf would easily overpower John, he knows, but the man is wagging that gun into his face and a Shift now could set him off, and Emma's right behind him - his wolf is howling and snarling, itching to sink their claws into John's flesh - protect their pup, their pup -

_Emma!_

She's slipped her face into the small of his back, her fingers tracing soft patterns into his skin. For a second, he's confused, before he realizes she's writing something on his skin.

Jesus, his pup is smart.

Ignoring the way his chest swells with pride, he focuses on John, trying to distract him from the movement. "Dad, please," he begs, "Put the gun down. Let's talk -"

"Talktime's over, kiddo," John snaps. "We're going. Go pack your things."

"Dad, you can't-"

The loud tring of his phone cuts through Dean's voice and they both stiffen, John tilting his head down at his pocket to glare at it.

"Answer it," he orders.

"Dad-"

"It's him, innit? Castiel? Your alpha?"

Dean nods slowly. "Probably."

"Answer it, Dean."

He pulls his phone out cautiously and swipes across the screen, but before he can say anything, John grabs the phone from him and presses it to his face.

_I SHIFT._

Emma completes writing on his back and Dean shakes his head slowly. Distracted as Dad is by Cas's voice on the line, he doesn't notice as Emma pouts angrily and then offers him a low growl.

_I SHIFT,_ she repeats and he whines unhappily, allowing his wolf to peek through for a moment. The gun in his face doesn't waver and he can't do anything about it.

"-stay the fuck away from my boy and grandpup-" John's saying, and Dean breathes out slowly, meeting Emma's eye with a single, sharp nod.

"So, adios kiddo," John holds the phone up.

"Dad, no-!" Dean yells, but the man throws it against the wall and it shatters to a million pieces. "Em, now!"

"Wha-" John begins confusedly, whirling the gun in Dean's direction and he sidesteps him, grabbing the arm with the gun and throwing it towards the ceiling. The shot goes off and pierces through the roof with a resounding smash, and Dean's heart is racing, his blood thrumming with the need to protect his pup, keep her safe, keep her from harm -

_Protectprotectprotect -_

A small wolf with red-tinged fur jumps past him and on top John. The gun clatters out of his grip and falls to the floor and Dean grabs it, throwing it somewhere behind him, away from Dad. Emma's growling and clawing at him, but she's only a pup still.

Before he knows it, Dean's Shifted himself, the world suddenly that much bigger and sharper. Without a loud howl, he pounces on Dad, who shrieks in fear and stops struggling. Dean snarls, sitting on top of him, barely resisting the urge to sink his teeth into that neck. Instead, he gently pushes Emma off of Dad and tilts his head in a silent order.

           

She Shifts back and before he can say anything else, scampers off towards where the landline phone hangs by the kitchen, wide-eyed and shaking.

Smart pup.

“Daddy, daddy, please, come, Dee, he’s hurt, Daddy, I-I-I-” she’s babbling into the phone, and Dean growls softly as he hears Cas’s panicked voice over the line.

Cas is here, he’s going to take charge.

As though on cue, Emma puts the phone on loudspeaker and Cas is yelling at him through it.

“Dean!” he cries, “Lord, Dean, hang on, just hang on love, I’m calling Bobby and Jo, I’m coming, Dean-”

He whines softly, ignoring John’s yelp of pain. For a moment, the fear pulses through his veins, and he lets himself revel in the sound of his alpha’s voice. Emma comes to sit by them, bony shoulders shaking and tears rolling down her face, and that’s all it takes for him to tense up and growl at dad again.

Twenty minutes later, the door slams open. Bobby marches in with his shotgun, and Jo and Rufus follow him, both in wolf form and growling at a terrified John who doesn’t move. Dean Shifts back, pulling Emma into his arms, holding her close and shaking quietly. She scents him, crying into his chest.

“You okay, boy?” Bobby asks him gruffly. “Yer Castiel called, fella said he’s gettin’ a flight back home tonight. He’ll be here soon, son.”

His mate is coming back - his pup is safe in his arms and his mate is coming back, and oh son of a bitch, Dad just went apeshit on him and his _mate is coming back_.

His wolf takes this as permission to finally pass the fuck out.


	10. Chapter 10

**Epilogue**

“Dean!” 

Sam’s voice breaks through the miasma of the plane and the rank odors and Dean sighs, looking up to see his baby brother push past the throngs of people to wave at him enthusiastically. 

“Dean!” 

The moose-giant looks comical, Dean snickers to himself, as he waves back. As though sensing his thoughts, Emma giggles from next to him, and he glances down at her, struck by the utter joy on her face as she races forward to meet Sam in person for the first time. 

Jesus, he almost  _ lost  _ this. 

His heart weighs about a frickin’ ton as he watches his pup collide against Sam’s freakishly long legs and the younger alpha pick her up and throw her into the air happily. She shrieks in delight, throwing her arms around him, and openly scents him, and fuck, but his eyes are watering and he’s shaking - 

He almost lost this. 

A warm arm wraps itself around his waist and suddenly, he’s being sand-papered by a stubble-roughened cheek as Cas presses into him. 

“You’re okay, Dean,” he murmurs. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” 

It’s been over a week since Dad’s last metaphorical stand, a week since Emma dialled a panicked Cas and got Henrikson to send over some of the local cops to arrest him, a week since he nearly killed Dad with his own claws. 

Suffice to say, it’s been a fucking long week. 

Cas freaked the fuck out and got his  _ private jet  _ to fly back the second Dad hung up on him. Even after Emma called and Dean assured him that they were both okay, he insisted on getting home as soon as he could, and for once, shaken and with Dad lying beneath his claws, staring at him with an expression as terrified as it was heartbroken, Dean didn't protest the special treatment. 

“Your pup is perfect, jerk,” Sam offers him a victorious grin as they finally reach him. Dean’s eyes narrow at his brother’s smirk. 

“Just because I’m a dad now, doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop callin’ ya a bitch, bitch,” he grunts and Sam’s smirk turns into an eyeroll. 

“Dean!” Cas hisses, even as Emma giggles, darting from under Sam’s grip to hug her alpha dad. She’s been extra clingy lately, with all that’s happened, and he’s surprised that Sam received such a warm welcome in the first place. 

“I apologize for my brother, Cas,” Sam says in a solemn voice. “General consensus is that he was dropped too many times on his head as a pup.” 

“I’m aware, Sam,” Cas’s eyes twinkle at his brother and Jesus, Dean doesn’t even care that the two assholes are making fun of him now. “But he’s loveable regardless.” 

“Aw, Dean,” Sam winks, “You’ve gotten yourself a Harlequin hero right here.”

“Oh shut up, bitch,” he pushes past his mate and grabs his brother in a tight hug, letting the familiar smell of Sam and his old books settle into his bones. 

He’s shaking against Sam, but he doesn’t care a damn. His brother holds him up, and Cas steps back, watching them lightly. Emma’s face swings between them in a confused manner, and Dean can’t help the slight snort that escapes his lips at the sight of it - damn, but his pup is a hoot and a half. 

“I’m glad you’re here man,” Sam mutters into his ears. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, kid,” Dean grunts. “We goin’ runnin’ later?” 

Sam nods, picking up their bags and leading them through the terminal and back into the warm sunshine of California. Cas pulls him close, Emma skipping along their side as they follow the taller Winchester out. 

“So what’s the agenda?” Sam’s saying. 

“Well, we must get Dean to your apartment and then head over to the office,” Cas answers, “Charlie’s been texting me incessantly since we left and Chuck is impatient to see Emma as well… after that, we’re thinking we’ll sit down with the Board Members sometime later this week to discuss the garage’s expansion here in California.” 

Sam whistles. “Dean’s always wanted to get into restorations,” he agrees. “I can’t wait to see how that’s gonna work. And you’re sure you’re okay with him staying in my place for a while? I mean… you guys are mated, right?” 

Cas shrugs in response. “We’re holding off on the mating bites for a bit,” he answers, “And it was Dean’s choice to stay with you… I agree, though. I’m not the only reason he’s moved, Sam, and it makes sense that he’d want to set up his own space before we move in together.” 

“I’m right here, assholes,” Dean snarks. 

Sam offers him a smirk and then picks up Emma and swings her around. “And you, puppy!” he tickles her and she giggles. “You and I are going to have so much fun!” 

“Yay, Uncle Sam!” she cheers. 

And standin’ here, in the middle of the fucking road, in sunny sunshine California, with his brother, his mate and his pup - it’s when it hits Dean. 

He’s livin’ it out. Despite Dad, despite losing Emma, despite losing Mom, he’s got a new life now and he ain’t just existin’ through each day. He’s buildin’ a future, and even if he’s gonna miss Jo, Krissy, Bobby, Rufus and the rest of his pack, he’s happy. 

He’s lost a shit, but then he’s found even more. 

_ -end- _

**Author's Note:**

> And that's a wrap! To all my readers, thanks for sticking with yet ANOTHER kidfic! I may have a slight obsession... XD  
> PS - To all those who are waiting on updates for Silences, it's coming, I promise. I needed to finish this first, but I've been working on it and it's coming soon! Thanks for sticking wimme and not giving up on me! :)


End file.
